


On the Other Side

by TaylorCee591



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Human AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-05
Updated: 2017-01-28
Packaged: 2018-04-19 04:57:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 34,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4733528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TaylorCee591/pseuds/TaylorCee591
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel knew it was too good to be true. He'd just moved in to the perfect apartment and everything seemed like it was going to be good now. And then he found out why the last tenants had moved in the first place.</p><p>His damn neighbor has sex really loud. His hot neighbor that he totally craved. After one quick thing together Cas had to listen to that and it drove him mad.</p><p>One night, Castiel had had enough, so he banged on the door only to find out that it's not exactly what he thought.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prelude & Introduction

**Author's Note:**

> The title is also the name of a Kansas song but the lyrics don't apply, I just thought that the title was appropriate.  
> All chapters are now titles of Kansas songs (all previous chapters, 1-7, have been changed to fit.) The lyrics don't mean anything, I just liked the idea of the titles matching up in some way. Plus, I found it much more in keeping with SPN that my own idiotic titles

Castiel recalled someone saying to him a long time ago that  _if it seemed too good to be true then it probably was!_

However, he purposely ignored that advice when he saw the apartment. 

It wasn't overly spacious but it would be sufficient for Castiel living alone.

The front door opened to a short hallway with one door in the middle on the right, two doors on the left and a bathroom at the very end. On the right, the door led into an open-plan living room on the right of the doorway and a kitchen area on the left. On the left hand side the doors were more spaced out and led to two small bedrooms, the front one Castiel had claimed for himself and the back he had turned into an office.

The place was painted with white throughout with the odd touch of pastels here and there giving the whole place a feeling that it was much bigger than it actually was. The furniture came included and the whole complex had a utilities area the size of an apartment without walls in the basement. Castiel almost bit the manager's arm off, with the rent as low as it was he wondered why on earth the previous tenants would have moved out.

Perhaps the two bedrooms were no longer of a sufficient size for them or perhaps the neighbors were noisy but, although he'd never met any of them, Castiel hadn't heard a peep when he'd viewed the property or while he was moving in. His apartment was on the top floor and at the very end so he only shared one wall with neighbors and that was the wall of his bedroom and study.

The way the complex was set out meant that the apartments on the end of each side of the building, like Cas', were mirrored with the others. Meaning, as the manager explained, that on the other side of Cas' bedroom wall was the neighbor's bedroom and that's why, when Cas had viewed the apartment, the man had suggested moving Cas' bed to a different wall. Cas had shrugged and said he didn't mind. He noted that the beds looked almost brand new and when the manager said he would be replacing the couch Cas noticed it looked like hell. When he asked about it the manager said he thought the previous tenants slept in the living room. Cas thought it was strange, to sleep on a couch in the living room when there were perfectly good and nearly new beds in bedrooms but didn't want to press too much before he signed a lease.

He moved all of his stuff in on the Monday and unpacked his bedroom first, logic telling him that he might not finish unpacking before he had to go to bed for work.

He'd already had a job in the area for five years but had to move out of his family home when he realized his family were not healthy for him. His older brothers Michael and Lucifer were at each other's throats, Gabriel had disappeared a year ago having had enough, Anna had ran away in the middle of the night saying that she felt like she was going insane in that house and Balthazar barely even lived there anymore; he touched base whenever he needed cash, either for drugs or bail money, but that was it.

Cas had stayed for as long as he could, he really had. He'd excused every insane trick, every wicked word, every back stab, every time that one of them got caught in the crossfire and every time he'd felt like a pawn, every time he'd done something he felt immoral at the hands of his brothers, every time he'd lowered himself to the same standards in the hope of ending this grudge match to no avail.

And then he'd had enough. 

In the end it took something so stupid to make Cas see.

It was a bagel. 

A bagel that sat there for nine days. Michael had been spreading cream-cheese on a bagel when the argument had started, over what, Castiel could not remember, but voices had begun to raise, gestures getting wilder and wilder until it became physical and in the process the bagel had fallen down the side of the refrigerator and wedged its cream-cheesy self there. After the punch up it stayed there, both of them claiming it was the other's fault so they should remove it and bin it. Usually Castiel would shake his head and do it himself but, looking at Michael almost unrecognizable with a broken nose, burst lip and fractured elbow and Lucifer with black eyes, swollen left cheek and a bandage on his sprain ankle, Castiel wanted to see just how far they'd go.

Apparently they'd even let mice discover the bagel first before they'd do anything. And Cas didn't even know what they'd done about it because after seeing the mouse scurry in the kitchen at night he'd known there was only one reason why, after their parents inheriting the house from their grandparents and never having a vermin problem, they'd have one now. So, Cas called for a hire truck and moved his stuff out in the middle of the night not really considering that he had nowhere to go.

And that's how, after living in his hire truck for nearly two weeks, Castiel was now hanging up a painting of a honeycomb in his bedroom.

He'd spent all of that day moving in, having taken it off work just to do so, and that night he'd crawled into his bed and fell asleep almost instantly.

And everything seemed to go so well after that.

On Wednesday he was coming out of the elevator after work, pulling at his tie as he did so and a man was standing with his back to Cas at his neighbor's front door, whether he was locking or unlocking the door, Cas didn't know but he turned when he heard Cas walking past him.

He looked at Cas and then smirked as he looked down him, appreciating what he saw. "Hey," he said, his voice harsh but simultaneously smooth, like whiskey.

Cas smiled back and felt his cheeks heat up. "Hello," he replied, still walking towards his door.

The man turned to look over his right shoulder at Cas he passed. "You the new guy?"

Cas turned to look at him, slowing and wondering if he should stop. "Yes, I've just moved in." He gestured to the man's door as he did indeed stop. "Do you live there?"

"No, I'm breaking in," he replied then laughed. "Yeah, I live here." He turned the key, rattled the handle and then bundled his keys into his pocket while stretching his right hand out. "Dean."

Cas took it, noting that it was warm and strong. "Castiel."

Dean licked his bottom lip. "Religious family?"

Cas remembered his family home and how big his dinner table used to be, now it was only big enough for two and that other chair was always empty. "Used to be," he replied, dropping Dean's hand.

"Well uh," the man looked over Cas' face then down him again, making Cas wonder if he was aware he was doing it, "you should come over for dinner one night, it's just me and my brother in here." He gestured to the apartment but didn't take his eyes off of Cas. "And he spends most of his time at his boyfriend's house so." He shrugged, biting his lip.

"I'd like that, Dean," Cas watched the man nod and found himself looking over his face. The freckles, the tan that seemed to keep going under his tshirt, _Megadeth,_ revealing from under his jacket, the t-shirt was tucked into his jeans at one side, not deliberately but as if he'd had something on his belt or, Cas wondered, as if he'd put his hand inside the right side of his waistband for some reason. 

"You alright?" the man asked and Cas looked up suddenly, realizing he'd been staring. And not at the man's face.

"Yeah, uh, yes." Cas nodded. "Yes, I am. Sorry, I'm just tired, from work." He gestured over his shoulder. "I have to- I should go but dinner sounds good, just let me know one day."

"Will do," Dean said as he stood there watching Cas retreat. 

Cas was very aware that he didn't move until Cas had closed the door and exhaled to himself. "Bonehead," he chided himself. "Complete and utter idiot." He walked into his bedroom and started to undress. "He was trying to be polite, neighborly, and I stand there checking him out." He shook his head. "I'm going to Hell for the embarrassment alone."


	2. All I Wanted

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Story description has been altered because this story just took a turn I didn't mean it to.

Cas woke up on Saturday feeling like hell, for no reason other than the physical labor of the past week had caught up to him. He hadn't had much sleep or a proper meal yet either, still getting used to the neighborhood and trying to find a routine. He figured next week would be better for him.

At around two in the afternoon there was a solid double knock at his front door so he answered it to see his neighbor standing there, his left arm on the door frame and his smirk devilish as his eyes lifted from the floor up Cas, who had just happened to answer the door in just jeans. No t-shirt, barefoot and hair untamed.

"Wow," Dean said.

Cas stuttered as he ran his hands through his hair. "Dean, I apologize, I wasn't thinking when I answered-"

Dean shook his head. "No, don't apologize, man." His eyes flickered down to where Cas' jeans were open at the front, zip pulled up but button unhooked. "Not complaining."

Cas hastily buttoned up and ran hands over his arms as if willing fabric to appear. "What-uh. What can I do for you?"

Dean's smile indicated he was thinking about something he couldn't say. "Uh, I was wondering if you were free to have that _welcome to the building_ dinner tonight?"

Cas' eyebrows raised. "Oh."

Dean seemed a little disheartened as he moved his arm from leaning on the door frame. "You can say no."

Cas shook his head. "No, it's not that. I just didn't realize you were serious."

"Thought I was just bein' polite?" Dean asked, somewhat amused. "Nah, I just thought you'd wanna." He shrugged.

Cas smiled. "Yes, I would."

Dean's smile returned. "Awesome." He gestured up and down Cas. "Don't change." He winked and began to walk away. "Six okay?"

"Yes." Cas nodded and closed his door. He heard Dean's door close a second later and he looked down himself. "Don't change." He laughed to himself and pushed off of the door.

>><< 

Cas couldn't understand it. He'd been nervous all day, he'd had this restlessness in his stomach, like bees buzzing around, waiting for something. He'd gone in the shower and come out, towel around his waist. One drop of water periodically found its way down Cas' scalp and running down his back. He pulled the towel from around his waist and roughly rubbed at the back of his hair.

"Stop it, I don't have the time." He was talking to the droplets but he looked at himself in the mirror. Completely naked. He ran a hand over his stomach and tensed it. "I need to find a gym around here."

He thought about Dean and wondered if he would know one, if he worked out. Cas imagined that he did. And then Cas _imagined_ that he did. Running on a treadmill with earphones in and blowing air from his mouth as he thought about whatever he liked in life. _Megadeath_ and sarcasm was all Cas could offer up. And Cas. Well, he seemed to be taking a good look at Cas, seemed to be flirting. Was he flirting? Cas ran a hand through his hair as he thought about Dean using the bicycle machine and standing up, really going for it as if chasing something or running from a monster. Cas turned and looked at his back and down to his buttocks as he thought about Dean using weights and eventually taking his t-shirt off, wiping his face with it and still pushing.

Cas grabbed at his pale skin, thinking about how he'd definitely need to join that gym.

Weirdly he hadn't agonized over what to wear. If it had been a date Cas would have tried a million things on, those jeans with that top but then maybe these jeans with that top or this top with those jeans. He had briefly considered a suit but the thought of spending all week in one then Saturday night in one too made him nauseous. He'd reminded himself, over and over again, that it wasn't a date.

In the end he wore his _AC/DC_ t-shirt and jeans that hung to his hips. He figured that, if all else failed, the t-shirt might give them all something to talk about. Cas assumed his brother must have similar music taste, or he hoped. Then the three could converse jovially about the genre and preferences over whatever they were eating and have a pleasant evening. Or that was the plan.

Cas decided that Dean was not a bottle of wine person so he took a bottle of scotch with him next door. He turned it over and over in his hands, trying to decide how to hold it. Holding it like a wine bottle might give Dean the idea that he was putting on a front for Dean's benefit and he was actually a wine person and that would set a precedent for an awful evening. But if he didn't hold it like a gift Dean might think he brought it for himself rather than an offering. In the end Cas held the neck in his right hand and knocked with his left.

He had planned to hold the bottom in his left hand and lift it to gesture to Dean or his brother - this is an offering but we can all enjoy it.

Instead he almost dropped it.

Dean answered the door and the bottle began to slip from Cas' hand, both of them dipping to catch it. They stopped and stared at each other, Cas' hand on the bottom of the bottle and Dean's under his.

"I brought scotch," Cas explained.

"To paint the floor with?" Dean chuckled.

Cas closed his eyes and smiled as he laughed a little. "Sorry, it's just you-"

Cas didn't know what to say as his eyes drifted over Dean. What was he meant to say? _You look so good I forgot how to operate the muscles in my hand._

Dean was wearing an army green shirt, sleeves rolled up just below his elbows, over a black t-shirt which was tucked in at the right side of dark jeans. Cas didn't see the rest before Dean spoke.

"Me? All I did was open the door." Dean chuckled again, the both of them straightening up and Dean dropping his hand from Cas'. "You look good."

Cas' mouth was dry. "Uh, tha- thank you. So you- So do you." He exhaled, annoyed. "You look good as well, Dean."

"Come in." Dean stood back and gestured inside and Cas stepped in, looking around. "I forgot to ask," Dean continued as he closed the door behind them, "you're not allergic to anything or one of those veggies, are you?"

"I don't eat fish." Cas turned to look at Dean who looked back questioningly. "It's not an allergy, it's-" He sighed. "It's more of a childhood trauma at the hands of my brothers." He shrugged. "But no, I have no dietary requirements."

"But finding Nemo on your plate is a no go?" Dean asked.

"If you don't mind." Cas smiled.

"Well, I must be psychic." Dean walked ahead, turning left into the first room, which was the living room of the open-plan living room and kitchen area - the apartment mirroring Cas'. "Because I made burgers."

"Sounds perfect." Cas followed him.

The living room, on the left hand side of the door, was a little different from Cas': it was filled with two brown leather couches, a big, dark-wood coffee table in front of a large TV fixed to the wall the room shared with the hallway. Behind the door was a desk with a folded up chair leaning against it in the corner with two laptops on it, one closed and straight and the other nearly closed and just thrown there. Where Cas' kitchen was made up of light-wood cupboards and white marble worktops, this kitchen matched the coffee table in wood and had dark green worktops with the same small breakfast area jutting out from the wall, this time from the right. However Cas noticed it was covered in unopened and junk mail rather than actually in use while the stool nearest the wall had magazines piled up it. On the wall opposite the door was a small motel-esque dining table; there were two chairs tucked in at the sides but indents in the carpet where it looked like a third had been used until recently, Cas would make a guess that the desk chair was brought in as reserve when they had a guest.

Dean went to the fridge and opened it before dipping to check the oven as he spoke, "Beer?"

"Yes, thank you." Cas gestured to the scotch. "What would you like me to do with this?"

Dean looked up as he closed the oven door again. "Oh, sorry." He stepped forward and reached out to take it. "I forgot. Would you rather have-?"

Cas shook his head. "No, thank you. It's a little harsh for during a meal, for me."

Dean nodded. "Yeah." He put it on the counter, near the wall. "Save that for later. Burgers will just be a couple of minutes. Have a seat." He gestured to the living room area and then to the small table. "Or we can sit here now, if you want?"

Cas walked towards the dining table and pointed between the chairs. "Which? Or-" He looked to the folded up chair and wondered if he should bring that over.

"Either one." Dean gestured and held out a beer for him, bringing it back to his chest to twist the top off for him then held it out again. "Here ya go."

"Thank you." Cas took a drink as he sat down facing the kitchen. "So, what is it you do for a living, Dean?" Cas asked.

Dean chuckled again as he checked the burgers and then turned the oven off. "I'll give you three guesses."

A smile threatened Cas' face. "Okay." He looked over Dean who was taking the burgers from the oven and closing the door. He had no idea where the spark of confidence came from but Cas' mouth said the word before he could stop it, "Model."

Dean burst out laughing and turned to the left a little, looking at Cas. "You serious?"

Cas glanced down Dean and then looked back to his eyes. "Yes."

Dean hesitated for a second before turning back to the counter. "Strike one."

"Mm." Cas watched Dean put the burgers onto buns and indicate cheese. Cas stood up and walked over, leaning over the breakfast bar. "Yes, please." Dean stepped to the right a little so Cas could see what he was doing. "Chef?"

Dean smiled and put the towel he'd used to open the oven door with down on the counter. "Wait until you taste it to make that guess." He shook his head. "Strike two. Salad?"

Cas shrugged. "I don't mind either way."

"Good." Dean looked up. "Because I don't have anything green."

Cas laughed. "What about red?"

Dean opened the cupboard and turned to put a bottle of ketchup down on the bar in front of Cas. "Done."

"Definitely not a chef." Cas picked up the bottle and walked to the table, sitting down as Dean carried the plates over.

Dean walked back to the kitchen to turn the oven off and pick up his beer. He sat back down and gestured. "Dig in."

Dean watched Cas settle the burger in his hands and take a bite. "Mmm." He nodded, chewing. "Could be a chef," he mumbled.

Dean smiled and looked down to his burger and picked it up. "I'm glad you like it but you've still got one guess." He took his own bite, looking at Cas.

Cas chewed as he considered Dean. "Not a model." Dean shook his head. "Not a chef." Dean shook his head again. "Could be both." Dean smiled a little, with food in his mouth. Cas watched as he used one hand to pick up his beer. "Strong hands." Dean looked at his hands then back to Cas. "Something hands on." He tried to read Dean's face but all he got was chewing and something mischievous. "Mechanic."

Dean chewed a few more times and then shook his head. "Strike three. Out. Thanks for playing."

Cas gestured to the door. "Should I just let myself out?"

Dean considered him a second then shook his head. "I'm a cop."

"Really?" Cas picked up his burger, thinking about his tucked in t-shirt. "I should have seen that coming."

Dean paused. "It doesn't bother you?"

Cas looked up, confused. "Why should it?"

Dean shrugged. "Most guys-"

Cas interrupted, "I don't have anything to hide." He looked up to the side. "As far as I know. Not a murderer, or a pedophile, don't do drugs, don't deal in stolen goods." He looked to the side. "And all other crimes have just gone out of my head." He looked back to Dean and they laughed.

"Is that your defense, Mr...?"

"Novak," Cas said. "Do I need to defense, Officer?"

" _Lieutenant_ Winchester," Dean corrected. "And no, no you don't."

They stared at each other until Cas remembered that his wasn't a date and he really shouldn't be thinking the things he was. So he broke eye contact and looked down, opening the burger to put ketchup on it. "I feel bad beginning our meal without your brother." Cas looked back up. "Is he late?"

Dean paused, watching Cas pick up the bottle. "Uh, no." He cleared his throat and looked at Cas, who looked up. "I thought I was obvious." Cas looked confused. "When I asked you over, it was-it was a date."

Cas squeezed the bottle and a blob of ketchup landed on his burger and on the table. He looked down quickly. "Oh, shit!" He put the bottle down, noting the ketchup all over the surface. "I'm sorry, I've made a mess." He stood up to walk to the sink.

"Cas, it's okay." Dean stood up too. "Leave it."

"No, I should get that." Cas walked to the table and began wiping it up. "I'm sorry."

Dean rubbed his forehead. "I thought I made it obvious."

Cas looked down at his top, it had smatterings of ketchup on it too. "Damn it." Cas sighed.

"Told you not to change," Dean said.

Cas looked up and saw that smile looking back, less cocky and somewhat downtrodden. He closed his eyes and laughed, looking down at his shirt while he tried to get the ketchup off. "Earlier, I was trying to decide what to wear, and I had to remind myself it wasn't a date."

"Really?" Dean asked.

Cas nodded and looked up. "But I think I've messed it up." He gestured to the ketchup. "Literally."

Dean stared at him for a few seconds, Cas' eyes twitching, wondering what he was thinking. This strange man that had climbed out of nowhere into Cas' life, who had asked Cas out after not knowing him more than a few seconds, this man who could have done so much with his life but spends it righteously.

And then Cas wasn't thinking about splattered ketchup or damp clothes or any job, they hadn't even got to his yet. All he could think about was the man standing there, the man who stepped forward and took the cloth from Cas' hand, leaning to his right to dump it on the table. Cas watched him, not moving at all except his head, as he stepped forward and stood in front of Cas, looking over his face while he leaned in, tilting his head to the right and- stopped.

Just before Cas' lips, looking over what he could see, aware that Cas hadn't moved. He pulled back to look at Cas, just enough to see him. Cas' eyes moved over him, unintentionally letting his lips part. He hadn't moved forward but he hadn't moved away either. So, Dean moved back in, kissing Cas.

He'd intended on just the one, quick kiss but as soon as their lips met Cas' arms moved up and around Dean's neck and Dean's around his back. Dean hadn't felt anything like it before; they seemed to melt into each other, the lips against his were so soft but firm, their hips slotted together and tongues were dancing as if they'd done this routine a hundred times now.

"Mmm," Dean spread his hands up Cas' back and found out very quickly that he wanted to feel his skin so he alternated rubbing his hands quickly up Cas' back until the t-shirt moved and he could tuck his hands underneath, feeling the warmth and softness against his rough palms.

"Mm," Cas said in reply to the feeling and ran his hands through Dean's hair. Dean made noises like Cas knew all of the right places to touch, to scrape and to pull. Dean's arms rubbed up Cas' back further, bringing Cas closer to him. That's when Dean felt Cas move his hips against his and he felt the need to grind against him. And when Cas moaned into his mouth he felt like he could have came right there, which was ridiculous. He just wanted to lift him onto the table and screw him right there or pull him into the bedroom and let him do whatever he wanted.

Dean suddenly pulled back, the both of them panting and looking at each other. It was clear they both knew where this was going if they didn't stop.

"We should probably cool it," Dean croaked.

"Yes." Cas nodded.

"Gettin' a bit heated," Dean admitted, clearing his throat.

Cas nodded again and Dean felt Cas lightly twist a group of hair on his head. All he wanted to do was exactly what he had been doing five seconds ago. He felt his fingers twitch, just itching to dig in and fuck the consequences. But they pulled apart slowly, putting a step in between them and tried to look anywhere but at the other person. But it didn't last long. Dean licked his bottom lip looking at Cas' own and Cas swallowed, his eyes dropping to Dean's.

"The food- food is getting cold," Cas practically whispered.

They continued to stare at each other, both unsure what to do. Could they sit down again, as if nothing had happened? Could they continue even though they barely knew each other and lived next door?

"Do you care?" Dean asked and Cas heard those questions tied together in that one sentence. Saying yes would sit them back down, saying no would let the burgers go uneaten.

Cas just reached out and pulled at Dean's t-shirt. "No." He let go as Dean got closer to him and wrapped his arms around Dean's neck again.

Dean smiled as he kissed Cas, pressing his hands against Cas' back and feeling them slot together once again. Dean felt Cas move his hips slightly and push against him.

"Cas..." Dean mumbled against his lips. "Do you want to-?"

Cas just nodded, not taking his lips from his. Dean wasn't sure he was going to make it and decided that they could get to the bedroom later, for now the sofa would do, so he tried to back them towards the couch against the window. However, Cas' tongue wouldn't give up and as a result Dean lost his bearings. Images popped into his head of pushing back against him, calling out his name or pushing into him and looking at Cas in ecstasy. He tucked his hands under Cas' t-shirt and stroked up his sides as he inadvertently walked Cas too much to his right, towards the couch against the wall instead of the other.

When he figured out his mistake he turned them, trying to make it easier to correct it by leading instead of nudging, but by then it was too late and the back of Dean's left leg caught the side of the sofa and sent him backwards, landing diagonally on the far arm of the couch. Cas fell with him but Dean broke the kiss to let out a groan of pain as the cushion puffed down under his weight and revealed the hard wood underneath.

"Sorry!" Cas said, putting his hands to the leather and pushing himself up. "Are you okay?"

Dean nodded and strained as he spoke, "Yeah." He arched his back and moved over a little, taking Cas with him. He used his hands on Cas' sides to pull Cas' hips towards him. "Let's just stay here." He leaned and kissed Cas' neck while he thrust up to grind Cas against him.

Cas let out a groan and closed his eyes. "Yeah, okay."

He felt his belt being tugged at and heard it rattle and gripped the leather in one hand.

"God, Dean." Cas moaned and Dean completely stopped.

Dean lifted his lips to Cas' ears while Cas' eyes opened, worried he'd done something wrong. "Haven't even touched you yet," Dean whispered, sounding as cocky as he did aroused. "Do you want me to touch you?"

Cas shuffled on his hands, making sure he wasn't going to fall on him and pursed his lips together. "Do you want to touch me?"

Cas heard a breathy chuckle leave Dean's lips, felt the warm air on his ear and heard the belt buckle click open. Cas felt the zip slowly open and Dean press his hand to Cas' abdomen, tucking his fingers inside Cas' boxers and curling his fingers around Cas' hard dick. Cas groaned softly.

"Oh, yeah." Dean touched left cheek to Cas' at an angle so that the side of his lips dragged across the skin. "Yeah, I want to touch you." He began stroking Cas, up and down, slowly but firmly. "When I saw you in the hallway I could have dragged you inside right there and then."

"Really?" Cas asked, barely able to hold himself back from thrusting into Dean's hand, thinking about what would have happened if Dean had, wanting to hear every dirty idea he had about it.

Dean nodded. "Yeah. And when you opened the door this morning-" He groaned and Cas felt him lift his hips briefly. "It's all I could do not to push you inside and do everything I was thinking about."

Cas shifted his weight to his right and started using his left to undo Dean's pants. "And what were you thinking about?"

Dean grinned a little and moved back to kiss Cas' neck as he pulled at Dean's button and zipper. "Oh baby, are you sure you're ready for that?"

Cas hung his head. "No." He groaned. "But I want to be."

Dean's hand stopped and Cas looked up. "Should I stop?"

Cas shook his head. "That's not what I meant." He thrust a little and Dean slowly started stroking again. "I meant that I don't think I could keep up with you." He moaned and pulled at Dean's jeans before pulling Dean's boxers down and rubbing his palm up Dean's length.

Dean bit his lip. "I think you're doing just fine." He looked down. "C'mere."

Cas re-positioned himself so that Dean could take them both in hand and Cas thrust into his hand, making them both close their eyes and groan deep - the thought of protection not managing to find a single space in their now lust-clouded minds. Dean lifted his left hand to Cas' jaw and the man leaned forward to kiss Dean, electing to abandon that quite quickly as he thrust harder and quicker while Dean moved his hand, finding himself thrusting up too. Both of them looked down periodically, their brows dipping and panting into the otherwise quiet room that still had the smell of burgers and beer lingering in the air.

Cas looked over Dean's face and down to what they were doing before looking back up. "How in holy hell are you single?" he asked, barely managing to strain the words out against the moan rising in his throat but it was taken over by a smile when Dean let out a laugh.

"Could say the same about- shit- about you." Dean moved his hand back to thread his fingers in Cas' hair, tightening his other around them. "Cas, I think I'm getting close."

Cas nodded. "Good, I've been there since you asked me for dinner." Cas smiled again when Dean laughed.

"Stop making me laugh when- when I'm about to cum," Dean breathed. "Jesus, Cas, I'm gonna cum." He closed his eyes and rolled his hips, furrowing his brow as if he expected it to hurt.

"Go," Cas thrust harder, "cum, Dean." Dean groaned, Cas pulled his t-shirt up quickly. "I'm right behind you."

"Yeah?" Dean's head tipped back and Cas dipped to kiss his neck. "Cas- I'm-"

"Dean-" Cas' left hand went to Dean's hip where he held on and rocked harder against Dean.

Dean let out a soft groan as he shot over his own stomach, Cas felt the member pulse beside his and watched Dean's face as he came, words swallowed by some need to be as quiet as possible that Cas would have to consider later because he was right behind Dean, as he'd said.

He hung his head and moaned the man's name as he came, adding to the pile on Dean's stomach and hand.

As he panted he heard Dean's own breaths beginning to calm and felt the hand in his hair loosen, he looked up and they smiled.

"Not exactly what I expected," Cas said.

"Me neither," Dean admitted. "I thought I might get a kiss but I didn't expect this."

"Oh, did you?" Cas smirked as Dean let them both go.

Dean shrugged. "Well, you know..."

Cas looked over Dean's face and couldn't tell if he was kidding or being serious. He wondered if that hint of smile was bashful or not. And then he wondered why he would be expected to. He only found out the man's full name five minutes ago. Until then he was a complete stranger. And then Cas realized that he still was. He realized what he was doing. With a stranger. A stranger that he had to see every day.

"Uh..." Cas moved back, tucking himself in and feeling the panic rise up. "I should go."

Dean made to sit up then looked at himself. "Some help?" he asked as if what had said was a completely normal reaction in that moment, as if he'd expected nothing less.

Cas looked at him and then around the room. "Em..."

"Bathroom, towel or something?" Dean said, looking a little annoyed.

Cas stood up and found a towel in the bathroom. He stopped and looked at himself in the medicine cabinet mirror; his hair was all over the place, he was still breathing heavier than normal and his lips were red and swollen. He dipped his head, returned to the sitting room and handed it to Dean. "I don't usually do this and I- I have church tomorrow."

Dean nodded. "Okay, yeah, course." He began wiping his stomach. "Don't let me keep you."

Cas looked to the burgers. "Dean, I really thought-".

Dean looked at Cas. "Yeah. But then, what was this?"

Cas pursed his lips together. "Honestly? I don't know."

Dean exhaled and looked back to what he was doing as he folded the towel and shook his head. "Just get out, Cas."

Cas looked confused and stood there.

"I said, get out!" Dean shouted, not looking up.

Cas' brow dipped as Dean finally looked at him with an expression that told him he was waiting for him to leave, then he made for the front door, walking out of the living room and pulling the apartment door closed behind him.

He didn't understand anything that had happened. Since when did ridiculously attractive men ask him on dates, since when did he do more than kiss on the first date and since when did it feel like he'd done nothing wrong? Nothing until the end, that is. Cas had freaked out, all of those previous questions swimming in his head along with a man beneath him who had been moaning his name, grinding against his hips and sucking on his lips. It was all so... not natural, that Cas had freaked.

And then Dean had thrown him out.

Cas got ready for bed while Dean put the burgers and beers in the trash and threw the dishes in the sink.

They both walked into their bedrooms, that shared a wall, and lay staring at the ceiling, Cas inside the cover and Dean on top of his, wondering what had just happened.


	3. The Wall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas meets Sam and Dean investigates a murder.

"Hold that!"

Cas put his hand out and stopped the elevator doors from closing. A man ran in and exhaled as he looked at Cas.

"Thanks." The man was tall with long hair, coming to the base of his neck at the back. He was wearing boots, jeans and a red and white plaid shirt under an open khaki green jacket.

"No problem," Cas said and pressed his floor again. "Which floor?"

The man looked. "That one."                      

They shared a quick smile then looked forward.

He turned to look at Cas properly but still face his body forwards. "I haven't seen you before."

"Just moved in." Cas nodded.

"Oh, yeah?" Sam said and then turned more to put his hand out. "Sam."

Cas took his hand. "Castiel."

Sam smiled. "Like the angel."

"That was the intention," Cas said and they dropped their hands. "Not sure I lived up to it though."

Sam laughed. "You should swing by sometime." They exited the elevator and turned right, walking along the corridor to the end together. "I'm rarely here but we could arrange a night, have dinner." Cas paused, he'd heard that before. "There's just me and my brother but I'm sure my boyfriend would tag along." He chuckled.

Cas slowly realized they were still walking. There was only two flats left and one was his. That meant...

Sam stopped at the door. "Anyway, just give me a shout."

Before Cas could answer the door opened.

"Sam, I got to go," Dean said. "I got a murder." He turned his head and did a double take at Cas standing there. "Hey."

Cas smiled politely and then started unlocking his door.

"Dean, this is-" Sam began.

"I have to go," Dean walked past Sam with his coat in his hand and his gun in its holster on his hip. He didn't stop to get the elevator.

"Yeah," Sam said, holding the door open.

Cas looked at Dean who stopped with his left hand on the door to the stairway and then turned to look at Cas who looked away and pushed his front door open. Dean left.

"Anyway, hope to see you sometime," Sam smiled to Cas. "But I got to get dinner on."

"It was nice meeting you, Sam." Cas went into his house and closed the door, sighing audibly. 

>><< 

"Lieutenant." Dean's sergeant nodded to him as he was writing in his notepad. "Get here alright?"

"I got here as fast as I could, Tran, alright?" Dean quipped, moodily, to Kevin.

Kevin cleared his throat. "Sorry, boss."

Kevin was a lot younger than Dean and would surpass him soon but Dean didn't mind, he'd already passed up promotion to Captain twice. He'd shoot himself if he had to sit behind a desk every day, he knew himself well enough to know that he'd be too curious. He was good at sports at school but was always in trouble, purely because he found it too hard to sit on the bench and do nothing, he'd open his mouth and shout at coaches for messing up. He didn't stay on teams long. Kevin was a new Sergeant, Dean had only been working with him six months and he liked him. He was smart but book smart; it was Dean's job to teach him street and people smarts. 

He'd never imagined that Kevin could teach him anything, the other probies hadn't. But he was actually learning things from the kid. Usually he'd dismiss them, why would he need to know anything about hacking when they had techs to do it? And yet Dean realized quickly that not only did Kevin know pretty much what all the techs knew and more, that there was a new generation of criminals that he wasn't ready for. Criminals who knew the things Kevin and the techs knew, the things Dean didn't.

So when Kevin rambled off how to track cars by hacking into the newer models on board GPS systems Dean reluctantly listened. He didn't exactly have a choice since, at the time, Kevin happened to be in the driver's seat when the suspect took off and Dean had the laptop on his lap in the passenger seat. He had pulled the door closed as Kevin gave chase, with no time to switch places, Dean rambled directions and instructions on driving better and faster while Kevin rattled off how to hack into the car to, not only make sure they didn't lose it, but to gain control of the car and put it to a stop.

They'd looked to each other and smiled while their weapons were drawn and pointed at the driver who had embezzled money out of a brokerage firm and tried to run, killing his wife, who was also his partner in crime, before he did so. Dean and Kevin had been investigating the murder when they caught on to the embezzling and he ran.

Dean wouldn't admit that Kevin had taken a job that no one else would. He'd had some trouble with sergeants before. They complained he didn't follow protocol, that he was a 'shoot first, ask questions later' kind of guy, one chick had even said he was sexist. Women though, right? It was all bull, Dean knew that. One dude had reported Dean for punching a suspect in the face, even though the guy was biting into Dean's arm. Dean had tried to point out to his superior, Captain Singer, that the guy had no problem with it at the time, but when he'd turned up at Dean's apartment on the pretext of a case and came onto him only to be rejected suddenly that punch was a problem.

Captain Singer had been a rank above Dean since he'd joined. He was more than Dean's mentor, he was like a second father to him. So, thankfully for Dean, he knew the guy. He knew when he was lying and he knew when some scorned kid was trying to cause trouble. 

"So, what's the deal?" Dean looked down at the body on the sidewalk and then looked up to the building's roof.

"Gordon Walker, uh thirty-two from Missouri," Kevin replied. "Witnesses heard a scream at 4:30-"

"16:30," Dean said, not for the first time. "Military time, Tran. It proves useful."

Kevin nodded and continued, looking at his notepad briefly to remind himself where he was. "And then Walker hit the sidewalk a few seconds later."

Dean stood looking at the body lying face down in the concrete. The black male was about six foot and well built. His jacket was still on, over his shirt and he had black pants on, as if he'd been in a meeting. Dean looked to his feet - he had both socks on but one shoe - and then around the sidewalk and road around the body.

"M.E?" Dean asked, as he started to look along the gutter.

Police had shut off the street with tape and there were officers stationed at points along the tape on both sides, to make sure no one got in, if they tried, for whatever reason.

"Stuck in traffic," he raised his head and looked down the street at the cars in the distance, "think that's him, way at the end." Kevin shrugged and looked up, pointing. "Still trying to locate the room he could have jumped from."

Dean kept looking at the ground and then approached a uniformed officer. "Shoe?"

"Sir?" the man asked, confused.

He pointed to the body. "He's only got one shoe on. Find out if anyone's seen it, if they haven't, look around for it."

"Sir." The man nodded and walked away, looking at the ground before looking at the body and judging where it might have landed. He looked up to the building too as he approached a colleague.

Kevin flicked his notebook. "Manager of the building, a Mr Devereaux, he's waiting for you in the lobby. Well, technically he's waiting for Singer."

"Why?" Dean asked, glancing to the police officer he'd sent on a shoe mission.

"He refuses to open apartment doors without someone in charge."

Dean gestured with his finger for Kevin to follow. "Well, lucky him."

>><< 

Castiel poured over the account books all of the next night and was so tired he ordered a pizza for his dinner still using his _'I've just moved'_ excuse.

As he was paying, the elevator opened and Dean emerged talking into his cell.

He looked absolutely exhausted, as if he'd been out since Cas seen him leave the day before, his jacket over his arm and his phone to his ear. He looked at Cas as the pizza man passed him and caught the elevator.

"Yeah, well you do that, Tran. I'm just going to catch some shut eye and I'll see you later." He hung up as he got to his door.

"Bad day?" Cas asked.

Dean sighed and looked at the door. "Bad week." He pushed the door open and went inside.

Six hours later, just after midnight, Cas was woken from his sleep with loud banging. He forced his eyes open and half sat up, trying to place the noise. At first he thought that someone was trying to crash in his front door. Then he realized it was coming from behind him, not directly, but more towards his office.

And that's when he heard the moaning.

"Oh my god..." he muttered, he heard two people moaning and the banging continued. "You have got to be kidding."

"Harder, baby," a voice grunted. 

Cas felt like it was familiar and then he remembered Dean speaking on the phone as he went into his apartment.

"Oh God." Cas put his pillow over his head and listened to the same sounds, only slightly muffled. 

Cas looked at the floor and then remembered how Dean had groaned and lifted his hips to grind against Cas as he admitted that he could have taken Cas the minute he answered his front door and done everything he wanted to. Everything he was doing on the other side of the wall now.

"Fuck!" another deep voice rang out.

That's when Cas scrambled up and dragged his pillow and duvet cover into the living room, closing his room door behind him. He dumped the things on the couch, walked back into the hall, shut the office door and then the living room door as he walked back through.

He fixed the cover and pillow and looked at the couch as he did. It was old, as if someone had been sleeping in it. The building manager said that he thought the previous tenants did just that, instead of the beds.

And then Cas realized why Dean had asked Cas out so quickly, why he'd been so cocky, why he'd been sucked in by him and why he'd thrown Cas out.

He heard the light banging in the distance and sighed heavily - his neighbor screwed everything that moved... And loudly.


	4. Point of Know Return

All weekend that's what Cas heard. Banging and moaning. It never stopped. He'd all but moved his office into the living room and was sleeping in there. 

Sunday night had been no different and when he woke up on Monday morning he'd had about three hours sleep. Not just because they were banging so loud and long but because when they weren't banging Cas was waiting for it to happen again. He couldn't relax for the anxiety that the minute he relaxed it would start again. But what kept him up the longest was the images he couldn't shake from his head.

He'd been the one grinding against Dean, he'd been the one kissing him, Dean had been stroking his dick until he came and Dean had been saying his name. And despite everything Cas wanted to feel it and hear it all again. So, obviously, he was mad at himself for that. 

However, when Cas came home with a lump on the side of his head the last thing he needed was Dean being there.

And yet he was.

He was coming out of his apartment, he'd obviously just showered, he looked fresh and rested. He looked scotch-dropping hot, as usual. Cas watched him nearly drop all of the files he had in his arms and push his hips against the door to catch them and then Cas couldn't focus right because he was angry and he realized that it was all that asshole's fault.

Dean glanced to him and, before turning all the way away, he took a double take. "Cas, are you okay?"

Cas kept walking. "Fine."

"What happened to your face?" Dean readjusted the files in his arms and walked to Cas, the door having already been locked before Cas had exited the elevator. 

Cas stopped at his door to unlock it. "What happened to my face?" he asked angrily. "I'll tell you, Dean. I have had almost no sleep this weekend because of you and whoever you're ploughing in there and this morning," Cas unlocked the door, "I fell asleep at my desk, slipped and whacked my head off of the arm of my chair." Cas smiled and stepped into his apartment. "That's what happened."

"Wait, wha-?" Dean said, as Cas closed the door in his face. Dean lifted his hand to bang on the door but his cellphone rang so he reluctantly took it out of his pocket and answered it. "Winchester."

_"The lawyer's here, boss."_

"I'm coming, Tran." Dean turned around and made for the elevator, looking over his shoulder. "Hold him until I get there."

>><< 

Cas came up with a simple solution for getting a good night's sleep through the week: he got absolutely stinking drunk. And it worked, mostly.

The problem was that Cas had been drinking for four days straight.

Sunday night he'd tried his usual drinking routine of a few glasses of wine but found he didn't quite pass out quickly or deeply enough as he woke up when they went at it at eleven and then again at one and then again at gone four. They were being kind that night.

Monday morning he was tired and a little hungover. Monday night he decided he needed to go hard or go home so he went for a bottle of scotch, identical to the one he'd taken to Dean's house. He knew that the higher the proof meant that he'd pass out quicker. And he did, three quarters into the bottle.

Tuesday morning was hell. He woke up on the couch and cracked every bone in his back as he stood up, without even trying to. He groaned and then sighed. Then his stomach reminded him of the downside to his stupid but effective plan. He put his hand to his stomach and decided that if he was going to throw up he'd do it in the shower and save himself time. He needed to make sure he wouldn't turn up to work smelling like a brewery. That night he opted for wine again but more and quicker, it took him longer to pass out however he woke up in the night to urinate and with a sore back he went to his bed assuming that everyone would be done for the night. He managed to get through the next few hours before his alarm.

Wednesday morning was secondary hell. He hadn't really recovered from Monday night and his breakfast didn't feel welcome in his stomach at all. He took medicine for his stomach then medicine for his headache and even a couple for his digestive system. People weren't made for constant alcohol consumption and Castiel was no exception. At work his usual lunch was skipped and replaced with more tablets. That night Cas had moved to putting soda water into his wine, he didn't quite pass out but his sleep was deep enough that he was almost late. In actual fact he considered phoning in sick but he couldn't, they had a massive account deadline next week and he needed to do his part.

Thursday morning was rough. His colleagues kept asking him if he was coming down with something and he had to lie and say that he thought he may have an infection or bug coming on while he knocked back tablets. He spent the whole day eyeing his waste paper basket, thinking that he'd quite like to stick his head into it and barf for the rest of the day. Maybe then he'd feel better. But he didn't, he got through the day and almost got out of the building before the head of his section called him back.

Castiel panicked - maybe he smelled of alcohol and didn't realize it, in the way that smokers don't. But no, she was worried that Castiel would infect the staff and told him to take next week off.

"No, please. Naomi, I have to be here. I'll be fine by Monday, please." He looked at the Ice Queen with begging eyes.

She relented. "Fine." Cas sighed with relief. "But I don't want to see you tomorrow and if you turn up on Monday in this state you're going home." She tilted her head forward.

"Absolutely." Cas nodded. "Thank you." He left and his face changed as soon as he did.

He didn't make a sound all the way home, the radio was turned off and he kept his focus forward. He was livid. It was all that damn asshole's fault. And he was going to make sure he knew it.

Castiel was going to kick off.

Or he would have if anyone was home. He banged on the door but there was not a single sound inside. So he went into his apartment and took his chance. He went straight to sleep.

>><< 

Castiel opened his eyes lazily when he heard it. Banging, again. It was dark around him and he groaned, closing his eyes again briefly. He could feel his body protesting already, sharp pains behind his eyes telling him that he shouldn't be awake.

"No." He sat up and rubbed a hand forcefully over his hair. "No, you're not going to ruin my life!" He shouted to the wall as he got out of bed. He threw pants on as he kept trying to out-shout the couple. "I'm not losing the biggest account of my career for you, Winchester!"

He stormed out of his bedroom and forcefully pulled his front door opened, then banged on the Winchesters' front door. When he didn't get an answer he banged on the window next to it with the curtains pulled over and Dean emerged, his hair everywhere and an annoyed questioning look on his face.

"What?" he said through the window and then looked down Cas' chest.

Castiel pointed to the front door and walked to it, as angrily as he could muster.

Dean pulled the front door open. "What the hell, Cas? Woke me up, man."

"Woke you up?" Cas said and Dean nodded. "Woke you up!" Cas shouted. "Well I'm happy to know you've been sleeping! Because I certainly ha-" He stopped. "Wait, you were sleeping?"

Dean nodded. "Yeah, wh-" 

Dean turned to look into the apartment and Cas looked as they both heard banging and moaning in the background.

Cas put a hand to his face. "It's Sam, isn't it?" he asked calmly as Dean looked back. "It's Sam that's been having loud sex and keeping me awake?"

Dean seemed surprised and pointed to himself. "You thought it was me?"

Cas shrugged. "Well, who else could it be?" Dean pointed over his shoulder and indicated what he was holding. A cassette player with the headphones sitting around his neck. "Well, I know that now!" Cas shook his head. "I'm sorry, Dean." 

"It's fine, I've told him about it before. He doesn't usually live here. He moved out a while ago, him and G-" He looked behind him. "Sam, knock it off, man! Or do it quicker!" He turned back to Cas as the noise lowered for a few seconds then kicked up again. "Sorry. They moved into an apartment a few weeks ago and then a pipe burst so it's been being fixed and the place redone, you know, water damage."

"Right." Cas nodded, his face red as hell and feeling mortified. "Sorry." He walked away into his apartment, the sounds of banging and moaning following him.

Dean pulled his cassette player off, dumped it on his bed and ran out, closing the door. He pushed Cas' door open and looked to the left, seeing that they were bedrooms he went to the right, into the living room after closing Cas' door. "Cas, are you okay?"

Cas turned to look at him having put the lamp on, and then shook his head. "No. No, I'm not. I'm not sleeping because apparently your brother and his boyfriend are insatiable so I decided getting drunk and passing out was a good idea."

"I thought you looked like hell," Dean said.

Cas let out a laugh. "Just what I needed to hear."

"Well, you didn't look like that the last time I see you with your top off. I mean, your face looks like it's gone down but you do look stressed as hell, Cas. And like you could do with sleep."

"Tell me about it." Cas smiled to him. "I'm sorry for having a go at you, I just assumed it was you."

"And why would that be?" Dean walked towards him. 

Cas exhaled. "Because I just assumed you go around screwing everything you can, regardless." He rubbed his face harshly and walked to his couch to sit down. "I don't know why."

"Is that why you left?" Dean asked, looking at the floor.

Cas looked up. "Left?" Dean moved his eyes to Cas. "Oh." Cas looked ahead. "No. I left because- because-" Cas swallowed. "Because I freaked out. I didn't even know you and yet there I was not only kissing you but- but-" he gestured to the air and stopped.

Dean walked to the couch and sat down on Cas' right, not saying anything.

All that they could hear was the banging and groaning in the background. They glanced to each other and then burst out laughing.

"How could you think  _that_  was me?"

"Well, how would I know what you sound like?" Cas asked and Dean just raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, but that wasn't sex that was- that was…" He paused again. "That was out of control."

Dean leaned forward. "And you always have to be in control?" He smirked.

He smiled a little. "That's not what I mean. I mean in control of myself. I don't kiss on the first date, never mind that!" He gestured. "It was like I'd stopped thinking."

Dean nodded. "Well, I'll tell you a secret." He gestured for Cas to lean in as he looked over his shoulder as if someone might hear. Cas reluctantly leaned in and Dean put his lips to Cas' right ear, making Cas' eyes close. "That's when it's the best."

He grinned and Dean pulled back, letting out a little chuckle as Cas looked down then up to him.

"You know, you're cute when you're mad," Dean said.

"Must be because I'm tired and hungover," Cas said, being too tired to hear the intention behind the comment. "I'm sorry, Dean."

Dean smiled, thinking he was probably being brushed off again. "No need. What do you think I was listening to music for? They're at it all the damn time. That's why he moved out, I told him he needed to go before I went crazy." Cas laughed. "No one wants it that much." 

Cas nodded. "I had a brother like that."

"Had?" Dean asked.

Cas shook his head. "He's not dead. No, I just haven't seen him in a long time." He cleared his throat. "I got into trouble today, I'm not to go in tomorrow and almost lost my big account. So, I may have to hurt your brother."

"That bad?" Cas nodded and Dean blew air out of his mouth. "Damn, I'll do it for you." He looked back to Cas. "He moves out on Monday."

Cas closed his eyes and shouted. "Yes!" Dean laughed and Cas looked at him. "So," he wiped his mouth, "he's louder than any human being on earth." Cas gestured to the wall in front of them, indicating Sam, and Dean laughed again. "And yet, you barely make a sound." Dean paused and Cas looked down. "What's that about?"

Dean let out one awkward laugh and looked down too as Cas looked up. "That's um..." He swallowed. "Classified."

Cas nodded. "Fair enough."

Dean shifted and stood up. "I'm going to go hurt my brother." Cas nodded and stood up too, to walk Dean to the door. "Sorry again, Cas."

"It's fine. Hey, Dean?" Dean turned to him as he stepped onto the hallway. "Maybe we could..." He shrugged. "Try the dinner thing again? You know, actually eat the food this time?"

"Really?" he asked and Cas nodded. Dean grinned. "Sure." He nodded. "But uh," he gestured to Cas' bare chest, "if you're dressing like that I'm not promising."

Cas smiled. "I'll be sure to wear lots of layers."

"Let's not go that far." Dean smirked then walked away.


	5. Hope Once Again

Cas had moved everything back into the office and bedroom and actually got work done. They still banged during the day but who could complain about that? People have to live.

Sunday night, about ten, Cas decided to catch up on sleep so he went to bed, about ten minutes later he was just falling asleep and then it started again. He opened his eyes to the noise of banging but less than before. He’d barely turned around in the bed before he heard loud a bang on the wall behind his head and then what he’d guess was heavy footsteps.

And then a conversation.

“Dean, what the hell!”

“We talked about this, Sam!”

“But-”

“I don’t care, Sam. You can wait one damn day. Or do it in the bathroom, man. Just give it up.”

There was a slam and then indistinct conversation before there was a bang on Cas’ wall again.

Cas smiled to himself and reached up his hand, knocking lightly on the wall twice.

There was a pause before there was a double knock back.

Cas rolled back into his sleeping position and fell asleep.

>><< 

Cas was leaving in the morning and even had time to make coffee to leave with. He left his house, turned to lock the door and looked to the side when he heard the door open.

“Hello, Dean,” he said, with a smile.

“Hey, mornin’,” Dean said, taking a drink of his own coffee to go. “You look better today.” He looked at Sam as he squeezed passed him out the door. “Must have had a good night’s sleep,” he said pointedly.

“Yes, I did.” Cas looked back to his door, fixing his keys and putting them in his pocket.

“Hey, uh, sorry about that,” Sam said, gesturing to Cas, “we didn’t mean to be rude.”

Cas smiled. “I didn’t think you did.”

“But you thought _I_ did?” Dean asked.

“How is that any different?” Sam looked to Dean. “You, me, how is it any different?”

“Because-” Dean glanced to Cas and then looked to Sam. “Because I can control my volume.”

Sam narrowed his eyes and looked to Cas.

“You off to work?” Dean threw his jacket on as he was stepping out of the door.

“No, I need to go get the-” Sam started.

“Not talking to you, bitch, you already told me all of this.” Dean stepped out as Cas fixed his briefcase and walked towards him.

“Yeah, you have a good day too, jerk,” Sam shot back.

“Yes,” Cas said as they walked towards the elevator, “I am going to work. It’s an important week.”

“You want a lift?” Dean asked as the doors closed.

“A police escort?” Cas laughed.

Dean shrugged. “Make an impression.”

Cas shook his head and took a sip of his coffee. “It’s not  _that_  important. Not as important as a murder.”

“Serial.” Dean paused. “Don’t tell anyone that.”

Sam had watched the doors close and looked back inside the apartment before walking in, closing the door and pulling his jacket off.

Gabriel was just walking out of the bedroom, rubbing his hair as he yawned. “I thought you were off, Sammich?”

“Dean and the guy next door have left.”

A smile spread on Gabriel’s face. “Really?” He let Sam walk him backwards into the room and leave the door open behind them. Because no one would hear them.

>><< 

“Sure you don’t want a ride?” Dean gestured over his shoulder to his car.

“ _That_  is not a police car,” Cas said, walking over to Dean’s car. It was a shiny black ’67 Chevy Impala with original bench seat and automatic transmission.

“I should hope not.” Dean chuckled and turned as Cas approached the car.

“May I?” he asked, looking to Dean, his hand in the air as if to touch the hood.

“Did you just _ask_ to touch my car?” Dean raised his eyebrows. “Damn, yeah you can touch it for that alone.”

Cas smiled as he ran a hand over the hood and up the bone of the window up to the roof. Dean watched the way his hand danced over the surface, firm but gentle. Smooth and slow. Dean licked his bottom lip and tried to deny the thoughts in his head.

Cas bent down to look in the window. “Who did you have to,” he straightened up, “screw to get this?”

Dean grinned. “Uh, my dad gave me it, before he died.”

Cas pursed his lips together. “Sorry.”

Dean shook his head. “It’s okay. Maybe I’ll tell you about the time I went postal and wrecked her.” Cas raised his eyebrows. “That took a long time to fix.”

Cas scoffed. “I’d do the same.”

“You would?” Dean asked.

“Yes, it’d be a labor of lust.”

“Love,” Dean corrected.

“Maybe for you,” Cas looked down Dean and back up, “but I’ve only just met her.”

Dean couldn’t help but smile at that. “So, ride or-”

“Not today,” Cas sighed, “need a way to get home.” Dean nodded, considering offering to pick him up. “But I definitely want to take you up on that at some point.” He pointed his own keys to Dean and started to back up.

“Definitely,” Dean said, taking a drink of coffee and watching him walk away. Gladly.

>><< 

That night Castiel walked out of the elevator to see boxes in front of the Winchester apartment and burst bubble wrap all over the place. He knocked the open door and Dean appeared from the bathroom, zipping up.

“Hey.” He smiled and walked towards him, getting to the door.

“Hello, Dean. I assume Sam moved out, or is in the process?”

“Oh, he’s all gone. This is the stuff that wouldn’t fit into the van, he’s going to pick it up tomorrow.” He stepped out into the hallway. “Sorry, I was just moving it all inside.”

“Don’t apologize. Would you like some help?”

Dean looked over Cas. “If I say no will you still come in?”

Cas smiled and then looked to the bubble wrap. “Why would I do that?” He looked back up.

“Because I’m adorable?” Dean chanced.

Cas laughed. “Tell you what.” He pointed to the stuff on the floor. “You get that stuff inside, I’ll change and I’ll get us dinner.” He smiled. “Pay back.”

Dean nodded. “Sure.” He looked at his watch. “Like… Half an hour?”

Cas nodded and walked away to his apartment. Dean stood there watching him as he unlocked the door and looked to Dean as he stepped inside.

Dean dipped to pick up a box and sniffed his armpit. “Shower.” He rushed the box inside, dumping it in Sam’s old room. He ran back out to pick up bubble wrap, putting it on top of the box in front of him and walked that inside too.

When he’d finished he jumped in the shower and then put different clothes on, he didn’t want to look like he’d just come off the clock. And smell like it.

Twenty-five minutes after they’d said half an hour Dean knocked on Cas’ front door.

“It’s open!” Cas shouted from somewhere inside.

Dean opened the door and closed it behind him before ducking his head into the living room. “Place looks different,” he commented and then looked behind him when he heard footsteps in the hallway.

Cas walked in to the living room, not stopping before he crossed into the kitchen, and smiled as he looked at Dean. He had a black Pink Floyd t-shirt on and dark jeans, finishing it off with white socks and styled hair.

“Well, I was able to move all of my things back into the bedrooms.”

“Jesus, Cas.” Cas looked down himself, looking confused. “What happened to layers?”

Cas looked up and smiled as he put out his leg and wiggled his foot. “Socks.”

Dean shook his head. “What are we eating?”

“I wasn’t sure I could cook something in half an hour so I guess we could order?” he turned his back to open a drawer as Dean walked towards him. He took out menus and turned to hand them out to Dean who was standing right behind him. “Unless there’s something else you want?”

Dean gave a wry chuckle as he looked to the side and then grabbed the menus before walking away. “Had pizza yesterday.” He put the menu on the counter. “What about Chinese?”

Cas nodded. “Okay.”

>><< 

They ordered food and sat on the couch to eat it since Cas only had a breakfast bar and not a dining table, which was something he figured the brothers had bought. Dean had kept his food in the carton it came in whereas Cas had transferred his to a plate, draining some of the sauce away first.

“So, bit of a late question but, what do you actually do?” Dean asked.

Cas smirked as he put his chopsticks down on the plate to take a drink. “I’ll give you three guesses.”

Dean laughed as he stabbed into the box with his fork. “Payback.”

“It’s a bitch,” Cas said and sat back on the couch.

Dean leaned back too. “Alright, okay.” He looked at Cas. “Well, you were wearing a suit and you get up early. You talked about having an account so you work for some firm or something.”

“See, you have an unfair advantage.” Cas pointed to him.

“What’s the matter?” Dean smirked. “Afraid I’ll guess right and shame you?” Cas shrugged. “Alright, no pressure then.” He looked around the room, even over his right shoulder to see the whole room. “My brother’s a lawyer so I know you’re not.”

Cas shook his head. “No way.”

“Good taste,” Dean said. “When he gets called to the station I want to noogie him just to make him go away.”

Cas laughed. “I’m not sure that’d be wise.”

“Nah, he’d just use it against me.” Dean smiled. “Alright, so not a lawyer but a suit. Banker?”

Cas shook his head. “Do I really look like an asshole?”

Dean laughed. “Okay. So not a banker but not really that surprised so something similar.” He stared at Cas.

“Is this your interrogation technique, Lieutenant?” Cas asked, with a smirk.

“Not…” Dean reached out and took Cas’ jaw in his right hand, using his thumb to wipe sauce from Cas’ mouth, putting it in his mouth to suck it off. “Exactly.”

Cas swallowed. “Thanks.” He cleared his throat. “One guess left.”

Dean didn’t flinch. “Accountant.”

Cas sighed. “You knew from the beginning, didn’t you?”

“I guessed, from the whole account thing.” Dean shrugged. “I wanted to play the game.”

Cas used his tongue to get food from his back tooth as he used his own chopsticks to push the food around his plate. “Do you like playing games, Dean?”

“Depends.” He smirked.

Cas considered his next words. “Isn’t being a police officer like playing games?”

“I guess it might be to some people.” Dean put his food down and inhaled deeply as he sat back, as if he were full. “Suspects, they play games of chess with us, it’s all strategy and planning the next step.”

“And you don’t like chess?” Cas asked, taking one more mouthful and putting his own food down.

“I don’t play games with those asshats.” He shook his head. “For them it’s all about outdoing you, outplaying you, being smarter, knowing what the other person is thinking and being a step ahead.”

“Not for you?” Cas wiped his mouth and took a drink of his beer.

Dean shook his head, reaching out for his untouched beer. “I don’t play with them, I hunt them. I don’t outdo them or outplay them, I don’t try to be smarter because we’re reading from different song sheets. I track and I spot, I close in and I close in until they have nowhere else to go. I don’t have to be a step ahead, I just have to cut around wide and stand in their path.”

“Sounds exhausting,” Cas said, looking over Dean’s face.

“Yeah, I could do with more sleep, I guess.” He wiped a hand over his tired face.

“I meant emotionally.” Dean looked up. “You’re not a murderer, Dean. Having to track them and put yourself in their path, it must be hard.”

Dean inhaled as he sat up. “Someone’s gotta do it.” He looked away and then to Cas again. “So, how big is this account?”

“Career-making,” Cas said, letting Dean change the subject. “Looks like we’re making good headway though.”

“Do you think you’ll get it?” Dean asked.

“Oh, we did.” Cas nodded. “Today. Now we just have to keep it.”

“Well, congrats anyway.” Dean smiled.

“Thank you.” Cas watched Dean lift his beer to his lips. “Hey um…” He hesitated as Dean lowered his beer, undrunk. “Thanks for… last night. I heard you having a go at Sam.”

Dean smiled, putting his beer down, apparently having forgot he hadn’t actually drank any of it. “It’s okay. They need to learn to cool it, it can’t be healthy.”

Cas shrugged. “I don’t know. If it wasn’t so loud and keeping me awake I’d say it was a good thing.” Dean looked confused. “Well, they’ve found someone they constantly want, you know? They don’t just want sex, they could get that anywhere, they want sex with that one person. If I had that I wouldn’t think it was a problem.”

Dean looked over Cas’ face. “Suppose not. I guess I’ve just never had that. Where you just have to look at someone and immediately want to be near them, kiss them, touch them. Everything and more.”

“Me neither,” Cas said, his voice a little lower than it had been, looking at Dean. “To just have to have them right there and then.”

“And not care what anyone else thinks,” Dean said leaning forward. “To just go with what feels right-”

“To stop thinking-” Cas rubbed his lips together.

“And just give in?” Dean turned it into a question.

Cas paused, looking over Dean’s face. “Yes.”

Dean lunged forward and kissed him, pushing Cas back on the couch, moving his right knee in between Cas’ leg and the other on the couch.

Cas started pulling at Dean’s jeans and he looked down briefly, looking back up to kiss Cas’ neck and then his mouth.

“You sure?” Dean mumbled against Cas’ lips.

“Yes.” He nodded. “Get your pants off.”

Dean didn’t even laugh. “Don’t have to tell me twice.” He knelled up on the couch to help Cas unbutton them and pull them down as far as he could. He reached forward and started pulling Cas’ jeans open.

And then it happened.

Dean’s cell phone rang. He rummaged in his pants pocket. “Don’t be work, don’t be wo-” He looked at the caller ID and grunted before opening it, looking down at Cas. “You had better be calling to wish me a happy birthday, Tran.”

_“Is it your birthday, boss?”_

“What is it, Kevin?” Cas looked at him without any expression and it confused him.

_“Another body at the pier.”_

“Asshole!” Dean shouted.

_“Wha-?”_

“Not you, Tran.” He sighed as he looked at Cas. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.” He closed his phone. “I’m really sorry, Cas.”

“It’s okay,” Cas said.

Dean looked down as he stood up. “It’s another body.” He pulled his pants up and buttoned them. “This asshole is gonna get the chair when I catch him, I swear.” Cas stood up and followed him to the door. “This guy is just sick.”

“You’ll get him, Dean.”

Dean opened the door and turned to look at Cas. Cas expected more apologies and a kiss goodbye. He knew they weren’t- Well, he didn’t know what was happening but he didn’t expect what happened.

“See ya,” Dean said as he left the apartment and walked along to his own, letting himself in, Cas assumed, to change clothes.

Cas closed the door. Nothing. Not even a promise of doing it again. Nothing. What had he done now?


	6. Man Overboard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not every case ends well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry it's been so long but my laptop is on its last legs and I don't have the money for a new one so I'm doing the best I can right now, updates-wise. Sorry!

Four days later Dean had his left arm in a sling, a sprained ankle and a bruised clavicle. And a murderer in a body bag.

He couldn’t drive home so another sergeant dropped him off.

“You sure you’re gonna be okay, sir?” the stranger had said, leaning across to talk out of the open passenger-side window.

He didn't answer.

Dean limped into the building and took the elevator to his floor before limping along his landing to his apartment. As the key was rattling in the lock Cas’ door opened and he stepped out in black pjama bottoms an old red t-shirt and grey socks.

“Dean, I saw it on the news,” he said softly. “Are you alright?”

Dean nodded. “Guy’s dead.”

Cas leaned his head to Dean. “That’s not what I asked.”

Dean looked at Cas as he pushed the door open. “I’m fine, Cas.”

Cas watched him limp inside and look down as he shut the door over.

>><< 

Dean threw himself down on the bed, like he always did, and the headboard hit the wall once. He lay in his bed, right arm above his head, staring at the ceiling, replaying the whole thing in his head.

He heard echoes of Kevin talking to him, he heard himself telling him what to do, pulling rank and making the decisions that have gotten him into trouble before but had always proved to be the right ones. He heard the laughter as the man stumbled into the middle of the park and ran, dragging his hostage with him. Dean saw himself try to give chase but not being able to walk because his foot was agony, he heard his sergeant running behind him and then overtaking him, he saw when he caught up and then he saw him do it, he saw his sergeant, the young book smart boy who would be his boss one day, he saw him run at the crazed man with a gun pointed to a woman's head. He saw him run, after Dean had pulled the trigger.

Dean saw the bullet leave his gun, he saw it all happen.

So did the whole district. It was on the news, reported live, broadcast to the entire town.

He must have fallen asleep at some point but he didn't know when, he hadn't planned to, he hadn't even wanted to go home but he'd been ordered to go so he had.

It was still dark when Dean dragged himself out of bed but it was early on Saturday morning, the world was still asleep and he was painfully aware of the quiet. 

Except that when he limped carefully into his hallway, towards his bathroom, he heard a distant, muffled noise. He stopped just before the bathroom door and turned his head to the right, looking into Sam's room. The boxes gone now it was completely empty, he had intended to turn it into an office but hadn't had the time or energy in the past few days to do anything in the way of setting that up. So he walked towards the wall and listened to the strange noise.

_"Let loose, from the noose, that's kept me hanging about... 'cause it's getting me high..."_

Dean smiled, it was casual singing, not really caring if he got the words right or at the right speed, it was the type of singing some people did when they were doing something else and didn't want the quiet but didn't want to stop to do anything about it permanently, like throw a radio on.

Dean leaned against the wall, giving his ankle rest, and sang loud enough to be heard through it. "I've got nine lives, cat's eyes, using every one of them and runnin' wild. 'Cause I'm back..." He waited and heard nothing. "Yes, I'm back, well I'm back."

 _"Back in the back of a Cadillac..."_ Dean smiled as Cas sang back.  _"Number one with a power pack..."_ He stopped. "Are you okay?"

Dean looked down. "Fancy some coffee?"

There was a pause.  _"If I say no would you still come over?"_

Dean smiled. "Now, why would I do that?"

He could hear the smile in Cas' voice as he sang.  _"Because I'm back on the track and I'm beatin' the flack..."_

Dean laughed to himself and looked up. "Well, if you put it that way..."

He heard a noise on the other side of the wall and Cas' footsteps walking away. He pushed off the wall and limped his way out of Sam's old room before he heard it again, singing, in the halls of the complex, outside his doorway, loud enough to be heard but not overly so.

 _"Nobody's gonna get me on another rap,"_ Dean started walking towards the front door and pulled it open to Cas leaning there, turning his head to the left to look at Dean,  _"So look at me now, I'm just makin' my play."_

Dean stepped out of the door, Cas putting his hand under Dean's right arm to support him. "Don't try to push your luck, just get out of my way," Dean replied and Cas laughed, lifting his hand from Dean's arm and letting him walk (limp) unaided. "Uh-huh." He pulled the door closed and let Cas lead him to his apartment. "So, what are you doing up at this time, Mr Accountant?"

Cas closed his front door behind them and followed Dean into the living room before moving past him to the kitchen while Dean followed slowly behind and eyed up one of the chairs at the breakfast bar.

"I was catching up on work for Monday, officer." He smiled and opened the fridge door. "Beer?"

Dean let out a little chuckle. "Uh, coffee thanks."

Cas looked at the clock before looking to Dean as he closed the fridge door. "You're just getting up, aren't you?"

Dean nodded and sat down. "Yeah, got to go back to the hospital."

"Are you okay?" Cas put the coffee on and leaned on the bar, looking at Dean, not at his injuries but his face.

Dean nodded, looking down as he squeezed his left hand into a fist and then released it. "Yeah." He looked up to Cas tilting his head and he exhaled. "I will be, when he wakes up." He swallowed. "If."

Cas inhaled. "Why don't you have a shower, do you need help?" Dean raised an eyebrow at him and Cas sighed with a smile. "I'm being serious, Dean. You'll feel better and I can patch you up."

"You can?" Dean asked. "I thought you were an accountant, not a doc?"

Cas smiled and walked around the counter, sitting on the other seat before putting his hand out to Dean. "May I?" Dean paused and then nodded. Cas reached forward and began to undo the sling around his neck. "Hold your arm where it is, don't go waving it around and don't use it in there, to wash."

"What, wash with one hand?" Dean asked as Cas lay the sling on his knee and began to gently take the elastic bandage from Dean's wrist.

"That's why I offered help." Cas' eyes moved up to Dean's for a second then back down. "Do you need anything else?"

"Like what?" Dean asked and Cas shrugged, it seemed like it was a forced gesture, as if he'd never shrugged in his life before, as if he'd never not known what he meant before.

It was a tense few moments while Cas took another bandage from Dean's foot and insisted he help Dean hobble into the bathroom without its support. The shower was exactly like Dean's so he had no trouble getting it to work.

He stood under the water, his left hand exactly where it had been when it was bandaged and his eyes closed to the feeling. He saw it all echoing in his mind, the shot, the laughter, the blue lights, the water. Everything. He moved so the spray ran over his face and his tears were lost in the water. He saw that crazy-ass lunatic fall backwards, into the water, red seeping from his body and mixing in the water. He saw his sergeant fall to the side, against the wood of the pier, falling like dead weight, and he heard himself scream out for him before he ran towards him, his foot sending warm pain up his leg and through his entire body, grabbing at Kevin with his left hand that just wouldn't work properly.

Shouting his name, seeing the blood on his temple, the path the bullet had taken, slicing his skin after sailing through the air, from Dean's gun.

He could hear the whir of helicopter blades and the lapping of water when he knelled down in the shower and leaned forward, as if bowing in prayer, and sobbed to the drain.

"I'm sorry, Kevin." He took a sharp, bubbling inhale. "Kevin, I'm so sorry."

"Dean?" Cas' voice came from outside. "Are you okay?"

Dean didn't even take his face from his right hand while the water poured over his back and hair, down the sides of his face, his left hand tucked in at his chest.

Cas shouldered the door in when he didn't get an answer and looked as Dean turned his head to look at him. 

"It's my fault," he said, through sobbing. "Cas, it's my fault."

Cas walked forward and stepped into the shower cubicle, still dressed in jogging pants and a t-shirt, both getting soaked as he knelled with him and put his hands on Dean's shoulders, pushing his upper body up straight. "Dean, you didn't-"

"I shot him in the head, Cas!" Dean shouted and leaned forward again. "My own sergeant."

Cas sighed and turned so that his back was against the wall, sat down on his buttocks and pulled Dean towards him as the water washed over them both. He squeezed Dean closer and let him cry.

"My own sergeant," he muttered. "Why did I take the shot?" His hand fisted in Cas' t-shirt and Cas made sure not to squash his other one. "I shouldn't have fired."

His voice was muffled by Cas' t-shirt and the running water as well as his own crying but Cas just let him let it out, rubbing his right hand through Dean's wet hair. He figured that Dean needed this, just to let it flow like the water, washing away and down the drain.


	7. Face It

Dean was trying to get dressed the next morning with some difficulty when Sam opened the front door and then his bedroom door to see Dean standing there with his left arm held up but not in a sling and his weight off of his ankle.

“I’m getting dressed,” Dean said, trying to hold his pants up with one hand and wondering just how he was going to button them up.

“Successfully?” Sam asked with a small smile.

Dean sighed and looked up which gave Sam the green light to help. He walked over, stopped in front of Dean and pulled both sides of the front of his pants to button them up.

“What are you doin’ here?” Dean asked him.

“Are you seriously going to put a shirt on?” Sam asked.

“Why do you think I haven’t put the sling on yet? It’s what I’m expected to wear,” Dean said and Sam shook his head as he took his shirt out of the drawer and began unbuttoning it. “You didn’t answer me.”

“Bobby called me,” Sam said and Dean sighed. “Because he knew you wouldn’t. It was all over the news but I didn’t know you were hurt, Dean. Why didn’t you call me?” He began to slowly pull Dean’s shirt sleeve over his wrist and then up his arm before he reached over his shoulder to pull it behind him and hold it out so that Dean could put his right arm back to put it in the other sleeve.

“Because I’m fine,” Dean said and looked down as he tried to button his shirt with one hand.

Sam watched him stick out his tongue in concentration but still fail.

“Alright,” Sam said and reached to do it himself. “You’ll still be here next week.”

“Yeah,” Dean admitted.

“You being picked up?” Sam asked.

Dean paused. “Yeah,” he said.

Sam looked at him. “Liar, you’re driving.”

Dean sighed and lifted his good hand to his face, closed his eyes and squeezed the bridge of his nose between his fingers. “Sam-”

“You can’t drive this this!” Sam said finishing his shirt. “You only have one working hand and you can barely put your foot on the floor.” He looked down to it, Dean swung his hips back to look too.

When he looked up again Sam raised his eyebrows.

“Fine,” Dean said. “But if you so much as take a wrong lane and you are dead.”

“Yes, boss,” Sam said and looked around to find Dean’s shoes. “Will your foot fit in a shoe?”

“They gave me one of those weird blue ones,” Dean said.

Sam laughed and saw it in the corner. “You have a special shoe?”

“It’s a brace!” he said.

>><< 

Cas gathered up his files as the others all the did the same, leaving the board room.

“Good work today,” Naomi said to him.

Cas looked up to her across the table. “Me?” She nodded. “Thank you, Ma’am.”

She nodded once in acknowledgment and walked away.

“Castiel,” Cas looked to his left as one of his colleagues approached, “how are you feeling?”

“Very well, thank you, Zachariah,” he replied, looking back to his files. “And yourself?”

“Great, great,” he said and smiled. “So, I heard you had the RRE account, good job.”

“Thank you,” he said, “it was a team effort.”

Zachariah grinned as if the fact that Castiel thought that was true amused him. “Really?” he asked.

Cas paused. “Yes?”

Zachariah smiled and nodded once before closing his mouth and turning away.

Cas shook his head in confusion and stepped out from his own chair.

“He thinks we cheated,” Samandriel said as he passed him.

“Why?” Cas asked.

“He thinks that we saw his presentation to Naomi first and adjusted accordingly,” he replied as they walked towards the door together.

“Oh yes,” Cas nodded, “like we haven’t got ideas of our own.”

Samandriel laughed. “I know, like we don’t know anything?”

“I swear, it was like three shots went off,” Cas watched Rachel walk passed them, talking to another woman he’d never met before, “he just shot his own sergeant.”

“No, he didn’t,” Cas said, without being able to stop himself.

“Excuse me?” she said, her face in a mock smile, showing she thought he was rude talking to her.

“You’re talking about the cop shooting the other day, right?” Cas asked, Samandriel looking between them.

“So what if I am?” she asked, lifting her head in challenge.

“Well, he didn’t shoot his sergeant, he shot the suspect and his sergeant ran into the line of fire,” Cas said.

“What did you have it on rewind? He shot three times, the first one hit the bad guy, the other two were unnecessary.”

Cas thought back to Dean talking to him the night before, telling him about it after crying in the shower.

“Haven’t you ever watched TV? Cops are trained to tap them three times in the chest, it’s standard procedure. He shot three times before he even registered that his sergeant was running.” Cas was aware people were looking at him.

“What were you there?” she asked, with a scoff.

“No,” Cas said, “but that cop happens to be my- My neighbor so get your facts straight before you go running your mouth off, Rachel.” He looked from her to her friend who he didn’t know and then walked away.

>><< 

Dean opened his car door and looked to Sam who didn’t so much as turn the engine off outside the station.

“What are you doing?” Dean asked.

“Waiting to go back?” Sam said.

“No, you are not taking this car,” Dean said. “I know what you’ll do, you and your boyfriend will do the nasty in the backseat.” He gestured over his shoulder. “Not happening.”

“Anyone would think you didn’t like me dating guys,” Sam said with a sigh and looked to Dean.

“Not guys, this guy though…” He sighed. “And are you serious?” He gestured to himself. “I came out before you!”

“That’s how ridiculous it sounds!” Sam countered. “What is wrong with Gabriel?”

“Dwarfism?” Dean guessed.

Sam huffed. “He’s not short, Dean, I’m just really tall, something you never stopped reminding me of my whole life but now Gabriel’s in the picture it’s not me that’s too tall it’s him that’s too short.”

“It’s both of you!” Dean said. “You’re both circus acts.”

Sam snapped his head to him. “Seriously?”

Dean looked at him and then tried not to smile as he looked again. “You know, there are other things to see at the circus than-”

“Don’t,” Sam warned.

“It’s just a word, Sam?”

“That you know I don’t like,” Sam said and looked to him. “Why do you always have to be that guy?”

“What guy?” Dean asked.

“The kid who can’t just listen when he’s told to stay away from the wasps nest, he has to go poke it with a stick.”

“Buzz off,” Dean said and leaned forward to take the keys out of the car before getting out.

Sam put his hands on the wheel and then got out of the car too. “You know what, Dean?”

“What?” Dean asked as they shut their doors.

“You’ve been like this since I was a kid-”

“And you’re still surprised?” Dean said as he looked at his brother over the hood of the car.

“Dean!” Sam said and lifted his hands as if to hit the roof of the car in rage.

Dean leaned forward and put his free hand out, still holding his keys. “Hey!” he said, and tilted his head in warning.

“Well, honestly!” Sam lowered his hands and Dean relaxed. “I’m not allowed to be angry?”

“Get angry all you want,” Dean said. “Screw your boyfriend senseless if that’s how you manage it, I prefer the gun range but it’s your life. But don’t go all Hulk on my car.” He shook his head.

“Fine, but what I’m saying is that I can take it, the constant mentioning of… _that-_ ”

“Clowns?” Dean asked and smiled when Sam forcefully exhaled.

“Yes,” he said. “I can take that and the blue dye in my shower gel, taking all of my rubbers, playing _21 seconds_ when I’m having sex, walking up behind me and throwing a pie in my face-”

Dean laughed.

“I can take it,” Sam said and then shook his head. “What I can’t take is when you ignore your orders, go AWOL and end up on the news! Then you come home barely able to function.”

“Coulda been worse,” Dean said, looking the car and then turned to walk away.

“Exactly!” Sam said and Dean paused before he looked to him.

“I’m a cop, Sammy,” Dean said. “I don’t tell you what to do with your life.”

“No, and I’m not either. But I just wish you’d…” He exhaled, trying to think of how to say it. “Care as much as I do about whether you come home in a car or a body bag.”

Dean looked at his brother and then walked away.

>><< 

Dean knew what was coming, he knew he was about to get a verbal ass-whooping, and he also knew he wanted to avoid that.

So, he ducked into the office and headed for his desk. When a few officers noticed him and began to ask him if he was well, if he’d heard about Kevin he put his hand out and asked them not to let the boss know he was there.

“Too late,” Dean looked up to see his boss leaning against the filing cabinet at the wall with a cup of coffee in his hand.

Dean’s face relaxed to general annoyance at being caught. “Sir,” he said.

Captain Singer gestured his head to the office as he walked to it. “C’mon,” he said and walked inside.

“Sir,” Dean said and then pointed to a colleague. “Your fault,” he said.

“Wha-?” Detective Lafitte said and gestured his right hand.

Dean just turned away and limped towards the open door where he could see Singer had returned to stand behind his desk but was looking at Dean, as if making sure he was actually walking into the office.

“Sir,” Dean said as he stepped in, “I was just dropping in to fill out the report and then I was going to-”

“Shut the door,” Singer interrupted.

Dean paused and watched the man look down to a file open on his desk before he reached behind him and closed the door then stood there.

Singer looked up again and then paused before he began to sit down. “Sit down,” he said.

Dean hesitated before he stepped towards the chair and sat down in it. “Sir, I know you need the report but I was sent home yesterday and-”

“Oh, put a sock in it, Dean,” he said and looked up. “I’ll get the report, I know that. And you know this isn’t about the report.”

Dean looked down guiltily but almost angry for it.

“How’s your arm?”

“Fine,” Dean said.

“Your leg?” Singer asked.

“Fine, Sir,” Dean said.

“Is it?” Singer asked. “You limped in here.”

Dean looked up. “Well, I’m not the one in a coma so I think I’ll be fine,” he said and looked away.

“Hey,” Singer said and Dean’s head whipped to it right away. “You’re allowed to be in pain, Dean. Just because someone is in a worse situation don’t mean you don’t hurt.” He sat forward. “There’s always someone in a worse situation.”

Dean nodded. “I can think of one,” he said.

“So that’s what you’re gonna do, huh?” Singer asked. “You gonna just curl into a ball of self-hating, stubbornness and steamroll through, not asking anyone for help? Not gonna let anyone care about you, make sure you’re okay, because it’s all your fault?”

“It is my fault!” Dean shouted and a few officers looked up from their desks. Dean lowered his voice a little but still shouted at his captain. “I stood this morning letting Sam help me get dressed and I cried last night to Cas, okay? Is that what you want to hear? I leaned on them and Kevin is still unconscious so how does that help?” He lifted his eyebrows. “You tell me that, Bobby. How does it do Kevin any good?”

Singer paused as Dean looked down at the floor and ran his free hand through his hair.

“Who the hell is Cas?” he asked, his voice changing to casual, as if he’d gone from Dean’s boss to his friend.

Dean rubbed his fingers against his scalp hard. “My neighbor,” he said and looked up.

“He new?” Bobby asked.

“Yeah,” Dean said and exhaled, looking to the side. “Look, Bobby, I know what you’re saying, I do, but until Kevin wakes up and I know he’s okay I can’t deal with everything you want me to. I can do my job and that’s about it.” He shrugged. “I don’t know what else you want me to do.” He gestured to him. “What would you do? Would you be able to just get on as normal if your sergeant was in a hospital bed _you_ put him in?”

Bobby exhaled forcefully. “No,” he said and Dean nodded before looking down again. “No, I wouldn’t.”

“Yeah,” Dean said and then looked up. “How is she?” he asked, referring to the hostage that had nearly been shot and then fell into the water with the dead gunman.

He could still hear her treading water as he held Kevin and screamed for help. Later, when the ambulances came he had heard her laughing as he watched her be loaded into the vehicle, a nervous reflex from the adrenaline he was told by a paramedic as he jumped out of the vehicle they loaded Kevin into just before Dean replaced him at Kevin’s side.

“She’s been kept in for observation but she’s fine,” the Captain said, his voice back to Dean’s boss.

“Medically,” Dean said.

“Yeah,” Singer agreed.

Dean shook his head and saw it all played out again and again, each one coming faster than the last until he fired and it all slowed down and it was like he was following the bullets towards the gunman. He heard himself call out to Kevin as he ran.

He heard his own voice echo before the splash of water and then thud of Kevin hitting the wood of the pier. And then all he heard was helicopter blades whirring, water lapping and his own heartbeat in his ears as he took off in a run screaming for his sergeant. He could almost feel the burn on his knees as he came to the ground beside him.

“Have you been?” Dean asked and looked to his boss.

“No,” he said. “Haven’t had a chance.” He put his hand on a pile of paper and files on his desk.

“What’s that?” Dean asked, gesturing his head to the file on his desk and read his name upside down. “That mine?”

Singer looked to it and then nodded slowly.

“You firing me, Sir?” Dean asked.

Singer looked up to Dean. “I don’t want to,” he said. “But it’s not up to me, it comes from upstairs.” Dean nodded. “I have to get your report, fill out my own and then give them reasons why not to.”

Dean sat up straight and then stood. “Why don’t I make it easier for you?” He reached to his belt for his badge before he put it on the desk and then began to unclip his gun and holder.

“Dean,” Bobby said and Dean paused with his gun in the air, “don’t.”

Dean then slowly put his gun on the desk. “It’s been good working with you, Sir.” He turned and left the room.

Bobby sighed and sat back in his chair as he watched Dean limp through the bullpen, ignoring his former colleagues and walking out of the door.

Dean got outside and inhaled quickly.


	8. Got to Rock On

Sam was sitting in his car, finishing a granola bar before he got out, wiped his mouth and stuffed the wrapper in the trash can by the door of the police station on his way in. He walked through the first set of automatic doors, fixing his tie and briefcase before he got to the next set of doors, holding one open for an officer on his way out who nodded politely to him as he stepped through. When he stepped into the warmth of the reception area of the police station the first thing he did was look to the front desk where he saw Donna Hanscum there, head down and filling out a form laying on the desk.

The rest of the office was how every citizen entrance of the local cop shop looked; a bunch of plastic seats around a small area filled with posters that either warned the occupants of the room against various crimes or gave them ways to report them. In the room was a young mother and her son who was playing with a small car, the model of which Sam couldn't make out from where he was. There was also a table with some leaflets on them that seemed would have gone undisturbed for years if it weren't for the weekly cleaners.

Donna looked up at the sound of the door and the brief wisp of a breeze from outside and her face broke out into an instant smile. "Sam!" she said in her heavy Minnesota accent and put her pen down to direct her attention to him. "How are ya?"

Sam smiled back, just as glad to see her; she was one of the few cops that actually liked Sam. The others granted him the minimum manners acceptable, either due to professionalism or the fact that he was Dean's brother. But Sam didn't take it personally, police officers never did take a liking to lawyers anyway. Donna however, loved Sam.

"Hey gorgeous, I'm good," Sam said and leaned on the high counter with his left arm. "How are you?"

She pursed her lips together in a tight smile. "Good, good," she answered and looked down at the form in front of her. Sam found it quite unlike her and his brow tensed in response as he watched her. When she looked up and saw the way he was looking at her she immediately changed the subject in the hopes of dissuading Sam from pressing the matter further, "Did ya just come to make my day or see someone?"

"Uh..." Sam was still watching her. "See someone," he said quickly then looked around to see no one else there, the woman and her child had left unnoticed. So he leaned more towards Donna. "Are you alright?" he asked in hush tones anyway.

She halfheartedly scoffed. "Yeah!" She shook her head as if wondering why Sam would ask. "Never better! Why wouldn't I be?" She finished filling out the form so as not to look Sam in the eye. "Hows your brother healing up?"

Sam shook his head and put his briefcase down on the floor in between his feet before he leaned more across the worktop to her and used his index finger to lightly touch her chin, making her look up as he let his hand fall to the worktop. "Hey, what's going on? Why are you flashing me a false smile?"

She smiled and looked down, laughing once in an attempt to be dismissive but when she looked up and Sam tilted his head her face fell to pain that she was still trying to mask. "Doug dumped me," she whispered.

"What?" Sam leaned back in shock and she looked around the empty reception room before Sam did the same to check then moved back towards her again. "What happened?"

A door behind the desk, to Donna's right opened and Captain Singer leaned through. "Sam," he said and crooked his finger before disappearing again.

Sam looked to Donna who had turned her attention back to the form again. "We're not done here," he said to her. "If you don't call me I'll call you," he warned, picked up his briefcase and walked to the side of the desk where he waited for Donna to press the entry buzzer for him, which she did. "I mean it," he said to her as he opened it, seeing her give a weak nod and then he stepped through it to see Singer waiting for him. "I'm here for Stephen R-"

"Come through," the Captain interrupted as he walked away toward his office.

Sam paused and then followed him inside. "What's wrong?" Sam asked immediately, even before he'd closed the door behind them, watching Singer walk behind his desk and stop, standing between it and his chair.

He sighed. "Of course he hasn't told you," he said as he sat, one file sitting in front of him on his desk.

"What?" Sam asked, taking a seat across from him and placing his briefcase on the floor. "Is Kevin okay?"

"He's the same," Singer said. "Dean quit."

"What?!" Sam said. "Why?"

"I have to investigate what happened, I have to get his report, I have to file my own and then Internal do their own investigation. I tried to explain that to him, it's a formality in these kinds of situations. A suspect didn't just die, he had a hostage with him and a sergeant was seriously injured by one of our own, his superior."

"It was an-!" Sam began to defend.

"I know!" the Captain said, his voice sounding less like a boss and more like a friend. "I know that boy inside and out, son; I know when Dean's telling the truth and when he's hiding something. But, I have to do it, it's my job!" He looked to Sam as he calmed. "And Dean sees anything like that as calling him out so he thinks that slamming his badge down was a way of telling me to go screw myself because he knows he did what he thought was right."

"You're not gonna accept it though, right?" Sam asked, putting his left hand on the arm of his chair and lifting himself forward a little, putting his right arm on Singer's desk. "Tell me you're not gonna accept it."

"Do you know how many times I've filed incident reports on Dean?" Sam shook his head and looked down as Bobby opened the file in front of him. "Fifty-two," he said and closed the file again as Sam's eyebrows raised, he somehow managed not to look surprised in the process. "This'd be fifty-three. Every time I've had to do it he's slammed his fist into a filing cabinet, stormed out, stamped his feet, came in here and tried to give me what for. He even broke a chair in the custody suite." He paused. "He's  _never_ given me his badge." He shook his head. "Never even offered me it before never mind his gun."

Sam looked down. "He's never shot his sergeant before," he said.

Singer looked at Sam. "Technically he's suspended from active duty until the review comes through, he  _should_ be confined to his desk. I've put him on compassionate leave," Sam looked up as Singer finished. "He's sent me his report, and ignored my request to get back here." Singer was slowly starting to sound like a police captain again. "Once he gives me his report I have one day to file mine." He tapped a file on the side of his desk, in the  _OUT_ pile. "That goes out tonight. Once they get that, IA might need to talk to him or me, if they need to talk to _him_ and he won't come in I need to tell them that he's given me his badge and gun."

Sam looked to the side then back to Singer. "Bobby, what can I do?" he asked; it was somewhere between asking what Singer needed and asking for help himself.

"Get him in here, Sam," Singer said. "We have an accomplice to find. Get him in here, we'll knock the IA investigation out of the park. Right now he feels guilty, which I get, but I need him to realize that it weren't his fault, I need him to get mad at the second perp and then we need to get him." He sighed. "We need Dean back here."

Sam nodded. "And  _he_ needs to be here," he agreed.

"I can stall, Sam, but this was on the news, this is high profile and IA don't like that. I can stall maybe three days, that's it." He shook his head once.

Sam nodded again. "Three days it is then," he said.

>><<

Dean felt himself relax into the chair, days of barely any sleep catching up on him. He inhaled quickly as he sat up and opened his eyes wide. He leaned forward and put his right elbow on the side of the bed, looking at Kevin's face as he lay unresponsive. He'd tried to move about with his arm out of the sling but found he'd made it worse so when the nurse offered him another he'd let her put it on.

Dean felt the rough texture of the sheet under his elbow, it was unlike any other, even the weave left a slightly itchy imprint on his skin and he looked to Kevin's arm lying on top of it. He knew that coma patients who had woken up said that they'd been able to hear everything while they were out. He didn't know how he knew this and assumed Sam must have told him some time ago. But now he was wondering if Kevin was thinking that his arm was itchy and then he let out a humorless laugh.

"Of all the things to think," he muttered to himself and stared at Kevin's hand before he gave in and lifted it from the blanket. He used his left hand to rub up and down on the skin. "That better?" he asked and then held Kevin's hand in both of his. "It'll go," he said. "It'll go." He closed his eyes and, leaning his elbows back on the blanket, he lowered his head to press his forehead to the back of it. "Wake up, Kevin, come on."

"Boss?" Kevin's voice cracked.

Dean's head shot up and looked at Kevin.

He was still lying there, unresponsive and out cold.

He exhaled and felt his heart start beating again as he lowered his head back down.

"Boss?" the voice said again.

Dean's head whipped up and he looked to Kevin still in his coma and his brow dipped.

"Boss?" it said once more so Dean looked to the doorway where a uniformed officer was standing looking at him. "There's someone here asking to see the Sarge."

"Who?" Dean asked, placing Kevin's hand back on the blanket and limped to the door as the officer shrugged and pointed at the desk.

Dean looked at the back of a shorter woman with dark hair arguing with the receptionist and another uniformed officer.

"Can I help?" Dean asked, walking over and stopped just a step away before she turned around.

She was a woman with Korean descent, dark hair and about a foot smaller than Dean. Her face was puffy and red from crying with dark smudges just under her eyes where she'd cried, her make-up had ran and she'd hastily fixed it.

"Who are you?" she asked, looking Dean up and down. "Where is my son?"

Dean inhaled. "Mrs Tran," he said.

She straightened up a little, just now noticing his injuries. "You're-"

Dean closed his eyes as he nodded. "Yes, M'am," he said softly.

"Where is my son?" she asked him again, in a lower tone.

Dean opened his eyes. "This way," he turned and hobbled a few steps before he stopped at the door, moving to let her inside ahead of him.

He heard her stop a step inside and then a few seconds later she took slow steps towards the bed again. Dean swallowed and walked to where the officers were now talking to the receptionist and they turned to look at him.

"That woman is the Sergeant's mom, why wasn't she allowed in?" he asked the receptionist in an angry tone.

She seemed taken back. "No one's allowed in unless they can produce ID that shows they're family," she explained. "She wouldn't show any ID."

Dean inhaled and then exhaled a little. "She was probably distraught," he said. "She's okay for the future."

"We're told to ask everyone, she might get asked again," she explained.

"I'll tell her," Dean said and nodded. "Now she's seen him she might be able to think clearer."

"Lieutenant?" Linda said and Dean turned to see her standing at the doorway. She gestured her hand for him to come over.

"Sir?" one of the officers said and Dean looked at him as Linda walked back into the room. "Can I go and get lunch now?"

"Both of you go," Dean said. "I'll stay here, one of you be back by two."

"Thanks," they said together and walked away.

Dean cautiously walked to the room door and stopped, looking at where Linda was standing with her back to him. Her jacket was on the chair behind her and she was slowly fixing his hair.

"Come in and close the door," she said.

Dean did as he was told and stood there.

She turned and looked at him. "Sit down if you like," she said and gestured to the seat he had been in before going back to what she'd been doing. "Your leg must be hurting."

Dean swallowed and thought about it before. He shook his head. "I'll just go," he said.

"Why?" she asked, not turning to look at him again. "Weren't you sitting with him?"

Dean hesitated, feeling sick. "I understand if you don't want me here, I just didn't want him to be alone."

She turned to look at Dean again. "Stay," she said and Dean looked at her then cleared his throat and walked to the chair. He moved it further back and sat up straight like he was worried about breathing too close to Kevin. "Lieutenant-"

"I'm not," Dean said and she looked to him looking at her son as he paused. "I'm not a Lieutenant anymore," he said.

"Did they fire you?" she asked.

Dean shook his head. "No, I quit," he said.

She shook her head as she stroked the side of Kevin's face. "How dare you," she said and Dean looked to her, his muscles relaxing a little at the sound of the strain in her voice. He saw the tears ready to fall.

"Mrs Tran-"

"Don't!" she shouted and closed her eyes, the tears beginning to fall before she looked to him. "How can you just quit?"

"Well, I-" Dean stuttered.

"Look at him," she said and pointed to Kevin.

Dean looked down, rubbing his free hand over his forehead. "I know-"

"I said... Look at him," she said, slow and calm with anger bubbling underneath. "Stand up and look him in the face."

Dean hesitated before he lowered his arm and used it to stand up, steadying himself and looking at her before he looked to Kevin. There was a white bandage stuck to the right side of his temple where the bullet had sliced through the skin, other than that he just looked like he was sleeping. Dean had been sitting with Kevin, thinking, for so long that the beeping from the machines had become white noise and yet he heard it again, like his own heartbeat, now that he was standing over him. He reached out his right hand and then paused it in the air, closing his eyes tight and hearing his own voice scream for him to stop running.

Linda reached across, took his face in her right hand and turned it to look at her, Dean opened his eyes to realize he was almost crying and blinked a few times to see her own tears making their way down her cheeks. "This might have been an accident-"

"I didn't mean to-" Dean started, looking down and closing his eyes.

"Hey," she said and lifted his head. "I saw the news. Shut up." Dean pursed his lips together and opened his eyes again. "This _was_ an accident," she said. "But he's in here because of those guys, that guy they haven't identified is still out there." She shook her head. "You care about him?" She gestured her head to her son.

"Yes," Dean said and nodded.

"Then you don't get to quit," she said. "You get out there and you find this son of a bitch," she said with venom. "You owe it to him to find him."

Dean closed his eyes and looked to Kevin as he opened them again, she let go of his face and let him. He finally reached out his hand and put it to the side of Kevin's face before he sniffed and Linda looked from him to her boy then to the screens that showed his vitals.

>><<

Sam closed his front door and put his briefcase down on the floor before he started taking his jacket off, he could already smell food but wasn't sure what it was. He hoped it was steak or something; he was feeling quite run down and figured he needed more iron in his blood. He then took his suit jacket off before slipping his shoes off and followed the smell to the kitchen.

In doing so, he walked down the spacious hallway, passed both bedrooms, the makeshift gym they had, Sam's office and the apartment's general toilet (as opposed to the ensuite bathrooms). He then walked into the large living room area; the white paint compared to the cream hallway somehow made it seem larger, this was obviously helped by the high ceilings and big, wide windows on the other wall. You couldn't see the damage the water had done anymore and Sam was beyond glad to have his apartment back. He turned left and went through the open door to the kitchen area which was made up of a larger runner dining table on the right hand side, with bookshelves behind it. And then the actual cooking area on the left with enough space for another in between them. The kitchen area was grey marble worktops and black-gloss replacing the wood. The worktops had been white but they'd decided there was enough white in the place. 

"Hey baby," Sam said as he walked straight passed the fridge to the hob in the middle of the worktops on the other side of the island to look at the food, which looked like beef burgeon.

"Hey sweetheart," a stranger with an English accent said as he closed the fridge door.

"Who are you?" Sam asked, turning his attention to him and wondering what he could use to defend himself. However, he had the feeling he could take the skinny figure.

Gabriel walked back into the kitchen and gave Balthazar a glare. "Why are you still here?" he said and walked to the food on the cooker next to Sam to check it. "Hi," he said with a smile. "Ignore him."

"Who is he?" Sam asked as the man took a beer and left the room.

"No one," Gabriel said and started fussing with the food as the sound of the front door closing could be heard. "How was work?"

Sam paused and then laughed once. "Gabe, you can't just expect me to ignore the presence of a random guy in our apartment, who is he?"

"Don't trust me?" Gabriel said as he took plates out of the kitchen cupboards.

"Don't turn this on me, who was he?" Sam asked.

"Just leave it, Sam," Gabriel said more forcefully and then began teasing at the meat to see if it was ready.

"I will not just leave it!" Sam said. "You know I trust you but I'm entitled to know who the strange men in my apartment are!" He gestured to the doorway.

"He's my brother!" Gabriel shouted and sighed as he put his hands down on the counter, letting his head hang.

"Brother?" Sam asked, letting his hands fall. "You never said you had a brother."

"Well, I do," Gabriel said. "Now, can we drop it?" He began taking the pans from the heat and dishing out the food.

Sam exhaled. "If you really want to," he said and swallowed. "I'm going to-" He gestured over his shoulder but didn't finish his sentence.

Gabriel turned, rolled his eyes and put the pans back on the heat, scraping all the food back into them and turning the heat to a simmer to keep the food warm and then followed him through the apartment to their bedroom.

The bedroom was as large and square as every other room, their king-sized bed seemed to be on a stage in the middle of the room with fitted wardrobes behind the black-gloss walls on the wall to the right, sharing with the outside of their apartment. The side opposite the door was almost completely comprised of a large window with dressers under it and the other was one cupboard like the others, a floor-length mirror and the doors to the ensuite.

"You're going to give me the silent treatment," Gabriel said as he stopped beside the door.

Sam turned his head as he pulled his button-down shirt off, shoulder by shoulder. "No, I won't," he said, indicating that he definitely was.

Gabriel sighed and stepped towards him. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you, okay?" he said.

"No, you're not," Sam replied and gently dropped his shirt on the bed.

"No, I'm not," Gabriel said.

"You're sorry that I found out," he said.

"Well, he shouldn't have still been here!" Gabriel said and Sam exhaled a laugh, the right side of his lips lifting as he shook his head. "Okay," Gabriel said. "What do you want me to say?"

Sam looked to him as he began to unbutton his trousers. "I don't want you to say anything, Gabriel. It's not like I'm entitled to know anything."

"Right," Gabriel said, looking at what Sam was doing.

"But don't act like I don't have any right to  _want_ to," Sam said. "I mean," he leaned down to pull off the legs of the pants, "it's not like we've been together for four years, its not like we love each other or live together or anything." He lifted the pants and put them on the bed too.

Gabriel closed his eyes, he could sense that Sam was genuinely hurt. "Okay," he said. "You're right," he said and Sam looked to him. "I don't like talking about my family," he said. "But that doesn't mean that I don't know that you care about it all." He sighed and looked Sam in the eye. "That was Balthazar, he's-" He shrugged. "He came looking for money, like he always does."

"What for, is he in trouble?" Sam asked.

Gabriel couldn't help but smile.

"What?" Sam asked.

Gabriel looked to the side. "Nothing, just- You didn't ask if I gave it to him, you asked about his welfare." He looked to Sam. "And I wouldn't expect anything less from you."

Sam walked towards him and cupped his jaw with both hands. "It's your life, I just-" He shrugged and sighed. "I wanna be a part of it. And while I get it, get why you do it, keep me away, I hope you realize that I can't  _really_ be in your life, properly, if you're going to do it all alone." He leaned down and kissed him and then straightened up, much to Gabriel's discontent, to look at him. "We can live together and make love, we can talk late into the night but-" He stopped. "Until you're ready to let me in, _really_ ready, then you'll know all of me and I won't know you."

"But you _do_ know me," Gabriel said softly. "All of that stuff doesn't change who I am now."

"No," Sam agreed. "But it made you this guy. It made you the person I fell in love with, one way or the other, and I just want to know all of you. You can't make me feel bad for that. You can pull me as close as you like but I'll always be at arms length."

"I can try, though," Gabriel said and moved his head forward a little.

Sam looked over his face, down to his lips and then up to his eyes again but couldn't help himself, he knew that Gabriel was trying to distract him and he couldn't help but let him. He didn't want to hurt him but he felt hurt knowing that he'd let him into every part of him and yet he was being kept out of parts of him.

But he leaned down and kissed Gabriel anyway, knowing he'd never be able to walk away no matter what happened. He knew that no matter what happened he'd always look him in the eyes and Gabriel would melt down any defenses he had put up. He knew that he'd always let him win for as long as he stayed with him and that he'd stay with him forever if Gabriel would let him. Gabriel pushed him back to the bed and he landed on top of his work clothes as Gabriel straddled him.

"The food?" Sam asked, even as he was pulling at Gabriel's t-shirt.

"On a low heat," Gabriel said and smirked, pushing all thoughts about his family out of his mind again as he helped Sam with his shirt.

As it dropped to the floor Sam put his hands up Gabriel's back and used his feet on the floor to lift him up, turning, throwing him back down in the middle of the bed and kissing him hard.

Gabriel hummed, used to Sam's aggressive nature by now, and closed his eyes as Sam kissed down his body, pulling at his pants. "One of these days you're gonna break somethin', Banner," he said.

Sam exhaled through his lips as he smiled, at the comment and absence of underwear and leaned back to pull the pants off of his legs, throwing them behind him so that they skidded across the floor, the sound of Gabriel's zip scraping along the hardwood floor. "It won't be you," Sam said and, even with the arousal in his underpants evident on his tongue, it sounded heartfelt. He kissed back up Gabriel's body and brought his left hand down to stroke his quickly rising cock.

"I know that," Gabriel said, sounding just as sincere. "You'd never hurt me." Sam shook his head as he kissed Gabriel's neck and Gabriel tried not to question if he was the one doing the hurting. "Not you, Sammich."

Sam hummed in the negative and lifted his hands to his own underwear and began to pull them down.

He only got them to his thighs before Gabriel grabbed his hands and pulled him towards him. "Leave them," he said and bent his legs. "Come on," he said, bracing himself, knowing that neither of them could hold out long enough for much preparation these days, they barely managed to get clothes off - if Sam hadn't been changing they'd both probably be fully clothed and Gabriel knew he'd be on all fours right now, how they usually did it due to their impatience. But every now and again, it felt good to get skin on skin contact. To feel the heat and sweat, to smell each other's natural scents. Even making it to the bed was a miracle.

Sam reached down and barely touched the head to Gabriel's opening before he pushed all the way in.

Gabriel moaned out the whole way whereas Sam groaned as he slipped in. He didn't stop to adjust and started moving right away, Gabriel moaning loudly. 

"You been working?" Sam asked, referencing how much easier it had been to get inside than that morning.

"Yeah," Gabriel said. "All day."

Sam groaned and pushed in harder. "Thinking of me?"

"Yes," Gabriel said and pushed back, lifting his hand to Sam's neck. "Who else?"

His mind flashed to earlier, when he'd been sitting at his kitchen table and talking with his brother.

"Who else?" Balthazar had asked him. "Who else would I go to, brother?"

"An addiction specialist?" Gabriel had quipped, seriously.

Gabriel now closed his eyes tight, ran his right hand up into Sam's hair and pulled it back, making Sam let out a whimper as he slowly opened his eyes and looked at Gabriel who needed to be looking at Sam, to focus on what they were doing.

"Gabriel," Sam said as he pushed in, using his right hand to wipe Gabriel's hair back out of his face and cup it. "I love you," he said and kissed him, muscles tensing on Gabriel's face as they kissed. He didn't pull back to get an answer because he never got one. Gabriel had never said it, but Sam knew, he'd known even before he'd said it the first time that he wasn't going to get an answer and he didn't need one. "Gabe, baby," Sam said against his lips.

"Harder," Gabriel said, knowing that Sam loved it, knowing that Sam wouldn't hurt a fly, even when he picked Gabriel up and put him against a wall or bent him over a sofa, it was forceful and aggressive but never enough to hurt. He liked it rough, and Gabriel did too. Gabriel had taught Sam that he didn't have to keep quiet anymore, that he didn't need to do it against a wall because the bed squeaked, he didn't need to bite his lip to muffle it. He'd taught Sam to let go, to really lose control. And even when Sam lost control, he never hurt Gabriel.

But Gabriel kept _his_ control, he'd tell Sam about the time in '97 when he'd crashed a car into a cow but he hadn't told him he was running away from his father. He'd told him about the time he'd got arrested for sex in an alley, but he didn't say it was his brother's best friend who then ended up in hospital a few days later, found at the side of the road beaten up. He'd told Sam about the time the priest posted bail for him but he didn't say what the priest was protecting him from.

Gabriel had had dinner with Dean, lived in his house, raced him to the shower, went with Sam to the hospital when they thought Dean was seriously hurt to find him already discharged. He'd seen the worry on Sam's face when the captain called and told him what the camera's hadn't caught. He'd been the one to call through for Sam when he'd turned on the news. He'd heard Sam's stories of his brother in the past, he'd been there for a few of them, he'd heard about their parents, their half-brother. He'd heard about Sam's exes, his straight phase, even when Dean came out. He'd held Sam to him in the night when he cried, he'd pulled his hair to get him to lose control and call his name in the moment of ecstasy. He'd looked into Sam's eyes when he'd told Gabriel he loved him and saw the absence of expectation. And while he'd realized he believed him one hundred percent, that Sam loved every screwed up part of him and accepted it, he also realized that he wasn't able to give the same back.

Sam pushed in harder, the bed creaking under them and Gabriel tried to concentrate on the feeling and the noise, he heard Sam calling his name, he heard Sam's heavy breathing and the tiny sound of the movement of the bed sheets under them as well as the springs. Gabriel opened his eyes to see that his right hand was across Sam's heart and it was this reason that Sam wasn't chest to chest with him - because he was keeping him away.

"Sam..." Gabriel said, closing his eyes, trying not to see it, and trying with everything in him to pull Sam to him but he couldn't. Because Sam had been making a point earlier, when he'd said that Gabriel could pull him as close as he wanted, because Gabriel didn't pull Sam close, Sam did. Sam was the one who spooned him, who pulled him to him as they had sex, who hugged Gabriel from behind as he cooked, who kissed Gabriel goodbye in the morning and hello in the afternoon, who put his arm around Gabriel as they watched TV. "Sam, I-"

Sam lifted his left hand and put his on Gabriel's right forearm as they rocked together, making Gabriel look to it then to Sam, who either couldn't open his eyes because of the pleasure he was feeling, or who'd made the gesture unintentionally. He ran his hand down Gabriel's arm and then back up. "Gabe, fuck!" he said and Gabriel had to lean back into the bed. "Your- Your l-" Gabriel knew what he meant before he said it and lifted his legs to hook around Sam's waist, making both of them moan loudly.

"Like that?" Gabriel asked.

"Yeah," Sam said and dropped his left arm to the pillow beside Gabriel head. "Yes," he repeated and hung his head. "Ga- Yes." 

"Faster," Gabriel said and Sam groaned as he complied, making Gabriel do exactly the same thing, with a chuckle. "No one to hear us, Sam," he said, which made Sam get louder. 

"I can hear you," Sam strained.

"Can you?" Gabriel said and lifted his left hand to the headboard where he gripped one of the bars and used it to push back, feeling a jolt of pleasure run through him. "Sam, right-"

Sam pushed harder and faster, knowing what Gabriel meant and they both got louder and louder, ignoring the music turning on overhead.

"Sam, right-"

"Yeah," Sam said and they continued like that until eventually, just as Gabriel was about to come his elbow gave way and Sam leaned down, touching his forehead to Gabriel's just as he came, shouting Sam's name and decorating both of theirs chests. "Fu-!" Sam said, due to the sound and the feeling, and followed him, shouting his name too, slowing until they stopped. The bed falling silent under them and the music cutting off.

"Sorry," Gabriel said, breathless as they tried to calm. "Got- On- You."

Sam shook his head. "Worth it," he said and rubbed the end of his nose against Gabriel's quickly, knowing he wouldn't let him stay there for long.

Gabriel smiled a little and then felt instantly sick. "I'm gonna-"

He barely started making his excuses about the food before Sam quickly kissed his lips and pulled out. "I'll get you something to clean up with, hold on." He got up off of the bed and walked into the en suite.

"Yeah," Gabriel said softly to himself. "Thanks." He closed his eyes, hating himself for making it so that Sam was used to it.


	9. Need

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean's deciding what to do, Sam's not coping and Cas is having a hard time being on the outside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the purposes of knowing who I mean when you picture it - Emrik Delano is the Alpha Vampire in season 6 & 7, and Marv is Metatron.

Dean got back from the hospital at three in the afternoon and went to the sofa for a nap but he was still asleep at nine when Sam knocked the door. Sam ran his hand through his hair, his face showed that he was clearly upset about something. However, Dean had taken his key away from him, refusing to let Sam and his boyfriend use his apartment as somewhere to bone when the neighbors had had enough so he just walked away.

At around eleven Dean woke up in a daze having slept longer than he was used to and wiped his face tiredly. He felt his shirt sticking to him and wondered why he'd been sweating so much, it wasn't as if it was overly hot outside or anything. He smelled his shirt and then sighed, deciding to shower.

It took him longer than it usually did to shower because he was distracted and his movements were slower than they would have been if he'd been able to think properly. Eventually he stepped out of the shower and, as he was drying his hair with a towel and walking into his bedroom, he stopped. He was looking at the slightly ajar room door and then he stepped towards it, pushed it open before flicking the light on.

The room was empty except that Dean had moved the desk from behind the living room door into it. Unlike other cops Dean didn't have a filing cabinet full of old cases or cold cases that bugged him, in fact he didn't even have one file. There wasn't nearly enough corruption in local police departments as TV programs and films made people think. There wasn't really any need for secrecy in everyday cases. Dean could maybe see why there was conspiracy theories about army officials and politicians or kidnap victims or terrorists but a soccer-mom married to a local CEO wasn't exactly a high profile target, as tragic as it was.

Dean looked around the white walls, the only marks on them were the marks on the far walls where Sam's bed had banged off of the wall. He closed his eyes and shook his head, shaking the image and memories of the sounds he'd been subjected to. He looked around again and then decided something before he left the room.

>><<

Sam was sitting on a bench outside the police station at one that morning, which was a Wednesday, when Donna stepped out, putting her jacket on. She saw Sam sitting there with a coffee flask and paused in her footsteps. Her first instinct was that he was there to corner her about Doug but then she remembered what time it was when Sam looked to the phone lighting up and vibrating on the bench beside him and ignored the incoming call. She noticed how upset he looked as he took a drink from his flask and winced as he swallowed then looked to his phone again when it lit up. He ignored the call again.

She walked over cautiously and stopped beside him. "Sam?" she said.

Sam looked up at her and smiled weakly. "Hey Gorgeous," he said and looked down. "How are you?"

Her brow furrowed and she sat down beside him, on his left and looked at him as he ignored the phone call again.

"Sam, what's going on?" she asked him.

"Hmm?" he asked and looked to her again, his head bobbing a little, the flask swinging in his hand and judging by the smell coming from him it wasn't full of coffee but whiskey or scotch.

"Are you-?" She leaned more towards him. "Are you drunk?"

"Yep!" Sam said and looked to his phone as it rang again and this time he just looked to her. "So, wh- what happened with you and Doug?"

"Sam, it's one in the morning?" she said, taking the flask from him and putting it on the floor.

He didn't even seem to notice as he put his now empty hand out to her arm. "Did I wake you up?" he asked, genuinely concerned.

She hesitated. "N- No, Sam, I was working," she said. "You're outside the department."

Sam turned to look at it then looked back to the sidewalk in front of him as his cell rang out. He then looked to Donna. "I went to Dean's- Dean's apartment and no one answered so I thought- I thought he was working." He looked to his phone again. "I forgot he quit."

"Dean quit?!" Donna asked.

Sam suddenly turned to her and shushed her with his right index finger pushed into his lips. "Don't tell anyone!" he said and put his right hand out and grabbed her arm. "No one's supposed to know."

"I- I won't tell anyone," she said.

He calmed and smiled at her. "Thank you," he said. "I'm supposed to talk him out of it before AI talk to him." He suddenly looked confused. "AI..." He looked to her. "That doesn't sound right."

"IA?" she asked.

He pointed to her and nodded. "AI, exactly," he said and looked down then to the side when his phone rang. "How can I do that when I can't even keep my own life together?"

She looked around him and saw 'Gabriel' on the caller ID then looked to Sam. "What's wrong, Sam?" she asked. "Tell me."

He looked to her. "You wouldn't tell me," he said. 

She smiled a little. "You're gonna go there, huh?" she asked. "You're drunk and devastated and you're still not gonna give me something for nothin'?"

He laughed once. "Lawyer," he said, gesturing to himself with the hand he'd been using to hold on to her. "It's a habit."

She tilted her head and closed her eyes. "He said I was too fat," she said.

Sam looked to her then to the ground trying to figure out what the hell that meant. "What?" he said, eventually and looked back to her.

"Doug," she said, "he left me because I'm fat!" She sat back. "Okay, you happy now?"

Sam gestured to himself. "Me? Am I happy?" He shook his head. "No, I'm gonna rip his damn lungs out," he tried to stand up and Donna grabbed him.

"I'm gonna take that with the love it was intended," she said as she sat him back down, "and advise you not to go shouting that outside of a police station again." She looked to him as he put his hand up, giving in. "Okay?" 

He nodded. "Yeah, I won't shout it," he said and leaned to her. "I'll just do it." She smiled and Sam laughed. "You smiled," he said and she looked at him. "Worth the arrest." 

She sighed and rubbed his arm. "Sam Winchester," he looked to her confused, "why you gotta be gay, huh?" He laughed and she smiled at him. "We coulda been great, ya know?"

He nodded and leaned against her. "Yeah, we coulda," he agreed and sighed, feeling the smile leave his face. "We could."

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"We could be great," he repeated and looked at her, she looked confused for a second.

"Sam, I was- I mean, I love ya, but I was kiddin'," she said.

Sam shook his head. "No, no," he said. "I mean, I'm gay so even if we could I can't," he said and grabbed her arm. "But we-"

His phone rang again and he looked to it, so did Donna, noting that it was Gabriel again. When she looked back to Sam's face he was getting emotional, looking at the screen.

"What Sam, what did he do?" she asked and shook him, trying to get him to look at her but he barely moved and didn't look away for a few seconds before he looked back to her. "What did he do?"

Sam shook his head. "Nothing," he said. "He's perfect." He began crying. "But he- He just won't let me in."

She inhaled and then exhaled heavily before she pulled him to her and hugged him while she kept an eye on Sam's phone. When the ringing stopped the screen didn't dull right away, it stayed bright for a second, telling Sam he had - from what Donna could see - thirty eight missed calls. Due to some software glitch the notification disappeared and Donna could see Sam's locked wallpaper: it was a picture of him and Gabriel taken while either feeling pretty silly or pretty drunk, they were posed with exaggeratedly silly faces and clearly taking the picture themselves. She pulled Sam tighter to her and he clung to her.

"It's okay," she said and when a fellow officer slowed as he walked passed she shook her head and he kept walking.

>><<

In Cas' apartment later that morning he was getting up for work when he turned the TV on and went into the shower. That early in the morning the only thing on was the rolling news and he barely paid it any attention as he crossed to the kitchen with a towel around his waist to start the coffee machine for that morning's fix.

 _"In other stories, there is no change in Sergeant Kevin Tran's condition,"_ Cas turned to look at the TV,  _"as of yet. Tran was involved in an incident on Friday..."_

Cas watched the replay come up on the screen with lowered sound so the newscaster could be heard, it was clearly from a helicopter.

 _"Let her go!"_ Dean could be heard shouting.

 _"Let her go!"_ Kevin shouted too.

 _"Step away and keep your hands in the air!"_ Dean added.

 _"Help me!"_ the hostage could be heard shouting.

 _"No f-_ bleep! - _ing way!"_  he could be heard shouting and then the light from the helicopter caught his attention. Kevin and Dean both saw their chances - Dean's to shoot, Kevin's to run.

The newscaster continued as Kevin lowered his gun and ran towards the man while three shots could be heard,  _"- when Tran was shot in the head by his own superior, while chasing down a suspect and his hostage. The suspect, pictured here-"_ Cas looked to the photo, it was a mug shot and looked old.  _"- was identified as Emrik Delano, a man police know little about other than he was arrested five years ago-"_

And then Cas heard something he never wanted to hear again.

 _"Kevin!"_ Dean shouted and the sound of a hollow thud, a double water splash and hysterical screaming could be heard.

 _"-_ for _not paying six parking fines. He was pronounced dead at the scene. Later we'll be hearing from out resident psychiatrist on what drives a man to make the leap from unpaid parking tickets to serial murder but now, we talk to former Police Chief, Marv-"_

 _"Just call me Marv,"_ the man interrupted as the screen went back to the studio.

 _"Marv, about what will happen to Lieutenant Dean Winchester,"_  Cas looked as the mug shot changed to Dean's ID photo at the station,  _"now. Marv,"_ she said.  _"What is the procedure in these cases?"_

_"Well, Karen, it's hard to say, things like this just don't happen. But, if I were to guess, what would have happened on my watch would be that the officer would be suspended from duty until reports were filed and an investigation carried out by Internal Affairs."_

_"We're hearing rumors over the internet that the Lieutenant has quit, what do you think that says about his actions?"_

He paused but Cas watched him try not to smile.  _"I don't know if those are true or not but I wouldn't be surprised,"_ Cas felt angry,  _"and I would say that, no matter what the outcome of the investigation, that might be the best course of action for everyone involved."_ He smiled.

Cas reached for the remote and forcefully turned the TV off just as the reporter continued.

"Screw you," Cas said to the blank TV. "He hasn't quit." He paused. "He wouldn't." He looked to the wall, somehow looking at Dean. "He wouldn't?" he asked himself, less sure than he was a second ago.

But then how would he know?

Dean wasn't exactly forthcoming with information or even asking for help. Dean wasn't forthcoming with anything at the moment, a text, a phone call, never mind talking about one of, what had to be, the hardest times in his life. And that's why Cas had took a step back, that's why, even though he figured they might have something and they stayed next door to each other, Cas knew about as much as the TV knew. And that was it.

But something in him told him that Dean wasn't a cut and run kind of guy, especially when it came to the people he cared about.

And then he remembered how quickly Dean had turned on him, how quickly he'd thrown him out when Cas was bailing on him. Like an injured animal striking out. He remembered how Dean had just walked away when work had interrupted them and realized he'd never gotten an explanation for that, because the worst had happened. The worst was still happening.

Would Dean really just cut and run because things got tough? Would he run and hide because he felt vulnerable in a moment of guilt and gut-wrenching fear that he could have done something so unforgivable it was easier to let the world see him as the monster he thought he was than to fight and redeem himself?

Was Cas really so wrong about Dean Winchester?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I refer to Emrik Delano here - I'm actually talking about the Alpha Vampire in seasons 6 & 7, is real name is unknown (although the actor claims to know his real name but until then we can only guess) so I made up a name for him. 'Emrik' apparently has German roots to mean 'leader' whereas it's Welsh roots (spelt Emrick) say it mean 'immortal' but for my use both work. 'Delano' had apparent French roots and means 'of the night' and while it might sound silly, from the lists I could fine I thought this name worked best. If we get a proper name for him in future it'll be changed.
> 
> Metatron is known as 'Marv' in a couple of episodes and I cant remember why (I should really rewatch this programme) so I went for that and didn't find a suitable second name so decided not to give him one.


	10. How My Soul Cries Out For You

Gabriel had thought about calling Dean, asking him to find out where his brother was, but a part of his brain told him to give Sam his space. So, he'd made his way through to bed and lay there, hoping that Sam would come back before he fell asleep.

His sleep was rubbish, he would wake at the slightest sound, thinking it was Sam. He'd woken again at two in the morning and went to the bathroom then back to bed when he heard the front door open. He sat up but then paused when he heard two voices.

"Okay, where's the bedroom?" a girl's voice asked and Gabriel's face fell and later he'd wonder why - Sam was gay.

"No, no," Sam said, in a whisper, "go to the living room. Through there." 

Gabriel walked to the doorway and saw the back of Sam walking down the hall with his left arm around a woman's shoulders. She had her right up his back and Gabriel was about to say something when Sam staggered as she opened the door and she tightened her arm against him.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

"Yeah, yeah," Sam said and they continued.

Is he drunk? Gabriel asked himself and followed quietly to the ajar door.

"The sofa," Sam said so the woman helped him over to it and he landed on it heavily.

"I'll go and get Gabriel," the woman said and Gabriel narrowed his eyes, trying to place her as she stepped away from Sam, he thought about what she was wearing. She knew of him so he must know of her.

"No!" Sam said and she stopped. "No, don't," Sam said. "I'll just sleep here."

"You have to talk to him," she said.

"Donna-" Sam sighed and Gabriel realized who she was; Sam had mentioned her a couple of times but he'd never been to the police station so he'd never met her. "Just please-"

"Hey!" she said and leaned down on her knees in front of him. "I'm not gonna stand here and watch you hurt like this." Gabriel's brow dipped.

"I'm fine," Sam said and Gabriel could even hear that that wasn't true in the slightest.

"Samuel Winchester you are  _not_ fine!" she countered. "Not only did you go to Dean's apartment for help, when he didn't answer you came to his job! Drunk!" She gestured her arm. "You need someone to talk to."

"I talked to you," he said. "And I wasn't drunk until after I got there." He laughed once and then his face contorted when he threw up in his mouth a little. He had no choice but to swallow it again and he exhaled harshly after he did so.

"Well, why aren't you talking to _him_?" she pointed to the doorway but neither looked. 

"Because I love him, Donna," she tilted her head and Gabriel looked to the side, "and I know how closed off he is, and that's okay. That's what I always told myself: that I know he loves me and as long as I know that and he knows I love him then nothing else mattered." He paused. "But he's further than I thought. He's so far away from me I'm beginning to wonder if we're even in the relationship I thought we were."

Donna exhaled and watched Sam lower his head so as to wipe his tears. "Sam-"

"I can handle the way he doesn't reach for me in the day because, when he's asleep and his defenses are down he moves towards me in the night; if I turn away onto my back he moves to be closer to me. I can handle never hearing him tell me he loves me because when we have  _Halloween_ parties he tells everyone not to come as a clown, not even to joke about it, because it's not funny to me. One year-" Sam sniffed. "Bela brought a date and he turned up late and he brought  _IT_ to watch. I wasn't even here and Gabriel refused, in case I came home early, he had Bela put it in her bag so he didn't leave it by accident." Donna smiled and Gabriel did too. "I can handle the fact that forgets the password to the safe because he knows every single story I've ever told him." He exhaled. "I could handle not knowing about his past, if that's what he really wanted, if I felt like I was his present and future."

"But you are!" Donna said.

"Maybe I was, at some point," Sam said. "Now I'm not so sure." Gabriel turned his body away, as if he wanted to run, but he balled his fists and squeezed and somehow that planted him there.

"Why don't you say all of this to him?" Sam shook his head. "Maybe he'd understand if you actually  _said_ it all-"

"I can't talk to him about it," Sam said and shook his head again. "Because he'd retreat further away from me." He paused and Gabriel turned back to the door. "Or worse, I'll realize I was right, and I'll start to notice just how much I have to reach for him." Gabriel closed his eyes. "And eventually I'd stop seeing the little ways in which he reaches for me or they wouldn't be enough an more."

Gabriel looked down and then turned away again, but this time it was to go back to bed.

He had to stop this.

>><<

Dean limped out of the elevator with a carrier bag from the local grocery store and just as he got to his door he stopped.

Lingered.

Then he put the bag down on the floor outside of his door and walked to Cas' and knocked. It was a few long seconds before Cas opened his door, he stood there in his work clothes with his tie missing and his top button undone.

"Dean, come in," he said and stepped back.

"Thanks," Dean replied and did just that, stopping in the entryway while Cas closed the door behind them.

"How is your foot?" he asked as he looked to Dean.

"S'fine," Dean said and smiled unconvincingly as he followed Cas into the living room with a hobble. "I just wanted to talk to you, clear some stuff up."

"Okay," Cas said and stopped in the middle of the dim living room. Papers were scattered around the coffee table, on the floor and on the couch, except that one space was clear and there was an empty coffee cup on the table. "Do you want a drink?" He gestured to the coffee table and then looked at it. "I can move these-" He moved towards them.

"No," Dean said and put his free hand out, Cas stopped and looked at him. "No, I won't stay, you're clearly working but-" He pursed his lips together then looked in Cas' eyes. "I like you, Cas," Cas face relaxed. "I wouldn't have asked you to dinner if I didn't. And that was just because you're hot-" Cas smiled and looked to the side for a second while Dean smiled too. "Then I actually got to talk to you-" Cas looked back to him. "I- I'm sorry that I threw you out, I thought it was just me being brushed off again."

"Again?" Cas stepped forward. "What idiot brushes  _you_ off?"

Dean smiled. "Idiots, plural," he corrected then sighed. "I know it's not an excuse and I'm sorry."

"What about the second time?" Cas asked and Dean looked confused. "When we were gonna- And work called. You just said 'see ya' and left."

Dean closed his eyes for a moment then looked at Cas again. "I meant it when I said that my job bothers guys." He gestured to himself. "I'm a cop, Cas. I never switch off and neither does my cell. I have to run out at the drop of a hat, it doesn't matter what I'm doing, if there's a murder and my cell rings I have to go. And it's not just me. There are more people separated or divorced in my bull pen than still married in the rest of the station."

Cas sighed and stepped towards Dean. "We're not married, Dean. I understand that you don't switch off." He gestured to the table. "It's nine at night."

Dean smiled and looked over Cas' face. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," Cas said and stepped towards to him once more, so that now he was in Dean's personal space, staring into his eyes. "I like you too, Dean." Dean smiled a little. "I wouldn't have offered to have dinner again if I didn't." He paused, tilting his head. "What happened?"

Dean exhaled. "I quit," he said.

Cas thought about the news program and what he'd heard. But somehow, he got the feeling that it wasn't as simple as Dean jumping ship now that the seas were rough.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Cas asked.

"No," Dean replied. "I've just come from the hospital, nothing's changed. I want to sleep."

Cas nodded. "Okay," he said and nodded once.

"I just wanted to clear that up, see if we were on the same page. I don't have the energy right not to devote to dancing around it."

Cas smiled. "Good," Cas said. "Me neither."

Dean reached up his right hand up to Cas' face and leaned in, Cas doing the same, to share one soft, long kiss.

"You should sleep," Cas whispered.

Dean nodded. "Just one more," he said and kissed Cas again, Cas stepping more into his space until his hips were impossibly close to Dean's without them wrapping their arms around each other.

Dean stretched his left hand up as much as he could and managed to touch Cas' chin with his fingertips. Cas' right hand went to Dean's lower back to finally balance them and slowly lowered to squeeze his buttock before he realized what he was doing and took his hand away, pulling out of the kiss.

"Sorry, you should go- go sleep," he said and pursed his lips together.

Dean did the same. "Yeah," he said and stroked his thumb over Cas' cheek. "Even though I don't want to right now."

Cas smiled. "Go," he said, gently.

Dean nodded and kissed him quickly before stepping back and turning, Cas following him to the door.

"What are you doing for lunch tomorrow?" Cas asked.

"Nothing," Dean said, stepping back through Cas' door and turning to look at him. 

"How about I pick you up?" he asked.

"Sure," Dean said. "I'll be here."

"Okay," Cas said. "Goodnight, Dean."

"Night, Cas," Dean said and watched Cas, his eyes baring into Dean's as if he would stand there and watch him all night before he reluctantly pulled himself away and walked to his doorway, dipping to pick up the bag then he pushed his door open. He looked to the right and saw Cas watching him. "You can come in, if you want."

"I'd keep you up," Cas said.

"I don't doubt it," Dean said and they shared a smile before they both went inside.

>><<

Gabriel was walking along the street the next morning with his phone to his ear and shaking his head.

"You're going to get yourself killed!" he shouted.

 _"Brother, dear,"_ Balthazar said on the other side,  _"I know it won't matter if I die but could you see your way to not trying to deafen me in the process?"_

Gabriel rolled his eyes. "I gave you money yesterday."

 _"That was yesterday,"_ Balthazar pointed out, sounding extremely bored with everything.  _"They're going to kill me."_

Gabriel stopped in the street. "What?" he asked.

_"They threatened me, said I'd get a nice new pair of concrete boots and find myself going for a swim."_

"Do people still do that?" Gabriel asked as people in the street walked around him, not believing him at all, especially considering he'd heard it before. However, a part of him always worried that the next time he'd be telling the truth.

 _"Would you like to wait and find out?"_ Balthazar quipped.

Gabriel looked across the road and then checked the traffic before crossing. "Fine," he said. "But no more Balthazar. No more." 

Gabriel hung up the phone and heard the echo of himself saying the same thing yesterday. And every time in the past three years.

>><<

Dean stood on the sidewalk, trying to put some pressure on his foot and testing its response, when Sam approached him out of the blue.

"Dean, he said. "We need to talk."

"What's wrong?" Dean asked, searching his face. He looked tired but otherwise fine.

"I spoke to-" He stopped when a smell hit his nose and he sniffed. "What is that smell?" He leaned to Dean and sniffed him. "What is that, why is it familiar?"

Dean watched him and then looked down, pulling his shirt up to smell it and then let it go. "What, it's fabric softener?"

"No," Sam said and sniffed again, Dean moving a little away from him. "It smells familiar."

"You said that," Dean pointed out.

Sam suddenly smiled as it clicked in his mind. "It's perfume."

"It's scent for men!" Dean defended.

Sam pointed to him. "You're going on a date," Sam said and looked down him. "Are you getting a cab because you can't drive."

Dean sensed Sam was trying to annoy him so that he'd elect to talk to Sam about whatever he came for. "Alright, what do you want?" He sighed.

"I spoke to Bobby," he said.

Dean audibly groaned. "Dammit," he said. "I can't do this right now, Sam."

"Dean-"

"I'm serious, Sam, I ain't got time." He pointed so Sam turned to see a cream colored Lincoln pull up alongside them from their right and Cas looked out, up at them both as Dean looked over the car. "What are you, a pimp?" Dean asked.

"I didn't tell you?" Cas asked. "I'm recruiting you." Dean scoffed. "Hey, you want that cheeseburger? Get in." He gestured his head.

Dean shook his head with a smile and limped around the front of the car to the passenger side.

"Hello, Sam," Cas said as he looked up to the younger Winchester. "Can I give you a ride anywhere?"

Sam shook his head. "No, no thanks. I'm- I was just here to see Dean about-" He shook his head and Cas glanced to Dean as he settled in his seat and pulled his seat belt across. It didn't take a genius to guess what Sam wanted to talk about. "No, I'm good, thanks." 

Cas looked up and smiled. "We have to go, I don't get long for lunch," he explained.

"Yeah, go," Sam said and then leaned down, putting his right hand down on the open window and then tilted his head close to Cas and spoke low towards Cas' ear. "He's wearing men's perfume."

Cas smiled and tried not to laugh as Sam waved to Dean and walked away, assuming it was some kind of brother-prank.

"Sam, wha-?" Dean asked, leaning forward a little but then looked to Cas as he drove away. "What did he just say?"

"He just asked me not to hurt you," Cas said, unconvincingly.

Dean chuckled. "You're a bad liar," he said.

Cas drove for a little while and then pulled in at a small restaurant. They still hadn't spoken until they went inside and were seated.

"Can I get you something to drink?" the waitress asked, looking between them.

"Can I get a coffee, black?" Dean asked and then looked to Cas.

"Green tea, please," Cas said.

"We have raspberry, wheat and lemongrass, honey and mango-" she rattled off.

"Raspberry will do," Cas said with a smile.

She smiled to them both, lingering, and then left.

"So," Dean said and smiled to him, "herbal tea?"

"What?" Cas asked. "I like it."

"You're a weird little guy, you know that?" Dean said, smiling.

"As I recall, you like this weird little guy," Cas said, smiling too.

Dean looked down, still smiling but embarrassed. "Yeah, I said that, didn't I?"

"You did," Cas confirmed and looked at him.

"Yeah," Dean said and let his tongue poke out, wetting the right side of his bottom lip. "I'm just glad we cleared that up."

Cas tilted his head. "How so?"

"Because now we can focus on other stuff," he said.

"Like what?" Cas asked, barely concealing his smile.

"Like-" Dean leaned forward and then they looked to the waitress who appeared with their drinks so Dean leaned back again wondering if _The Flash_ worked behind the counter.

"Tea," she said and put Cas' down in front of before shooting him a smile then turned to Dean. "And black coffee." Dean smiled politely, putting his right arm on the table, in a sort of curve around the side of his cup. "Can I take your lunch order now?"

"Are you ready?" Cas asked.

"Uh, you go and I'll scan this," Dean said, picking up the menu with his left hand.

"Okay," Cas said and looked to the waitress. "Can I have the grilled tomato gazpacho with kale and nuts, please?" She nodded as she was writing on the pad and Dean's eyes moved to Cas who looked at him before the waitress did.

"Was that even English?" Dean asked as the waitress laughed and Cas smiled. "Uh..." Dean's eyes hesitated on Cas for a few seconds, the right side of his mouth twitching upwards a little, and then he looked up to her. "Just a bacon cheeseburger and chili fries for me, thanks." He put his menu back as she walked away. "I should make you smile more often," Dean said to Cas.

Cas paused. "Are you always this-?" He stopped.

"What?" Dean asked and shifted, as Cas opened his mouth to talk he felt Dean's left knee brush the inside of his right.

"This confusing," Cas finished.

"Am I being confusing?" Dean asked and lifted his coffee to drink. "I'm not trying to be." He took a drink and lowered it again. "Just how am I confusing you?"

Cas sighed, not knowing how to say it. "I- Every sentence you say, I don't know if you're being endearing, tongue-in-cheek, or coming on to me."

Dean leaned forward and gestured his hand so that Cas would lean in, which he did. "I'm always coming onto you," he said and smirked.

Cas smiled and looked at Dean. "Do you delight in confusing me?"

"I like to see you smile, and go red," he said. "So I guess, yeah. But," he lowered his voice, "I like to see you do other stuff too."

Cas leaned back, looking at Dean as he picked up his coffee again, raised his eyebrows at Cas and took a drink.

They talked all the way through lunch about Cas' job and avoiding Dean's altogether.

However, when they got back into the car and Cas drove towards his home he glanced to Dean.

"Am I dropping you off at the apartment building or the station?"

Dean looked to him and then back to the road. "Apartment," he said.

Cas nodded. "Okay," he said and decided, based on Dean's tone, to abandon the subject there.

When Cas pulled up outside the apartment building, facing the opposite way he had been when he'd picked him up he was surprised when Dean leaned over and kissed him. Cas' nose was filled with the scent Sam had talked about and corrected himself that he hadn't been joking. Cas eyes closed and he leaned into the kiss, lifting his left hand to Dean's face.

He opened his eyes when he felt Dean run his right hand up the inside of Cas' right thigh. He jumped back in his seat and Dean pulled back to look at him, his hand lifting in the air.

"Sorry. Did I go too far?" he asked, genuinely concerned as Cas' hand dropped from his face.

"No," Cas said and exhaled. "No, it's just, we're in the street and I have to get back to work."

Dean nodded and then chanced moving his hand to Cas' face as he gently kissed him again. "I'll see you whenever," he said gently once he'd pulled back.

It wasn't said as a question but Cas answered it nonetheless with a nod. He leaned forward and kissed Dean again, trying not to lean into him and just give in, he moved his left hand to the steering wheel and gripped it tight.

Dean looked over his face for a second and then leaned back and smiled as he reached for the door handle. He watched Dean get out, close the door and then check the traffic before he walked across the road and waved as he disappeared into the building. He didn't trust himself to let go of the steering wheel as he drove off while Dean willing his foot to let him climb the steps into the building.

It had been bothering him at lunch even though he'd never let on about it but he only got a flight up before he had to give in and take the elevator. He went into his apartment, dumped his keys in his jacket pocket before he struggled to get it off then hung it up.

He went into the living room and sat on the couch thinking about the way Cas had jumped away from him then what Linda had said while Kevin lay there completely still. Then he saw Kevin's body turn with the force of the bullet and fall to the ground.

He wondered if he'd ever get anything right.

>><<

Sam went to grab dinner at the local Thai place and checked his wallet for cash, finding it low.

"Can I pay by card?" Sam asked the woman behind the counter and she shook her head. "I'll go get cash," he said and left the building.

There was an ATM across the road so he ran across after checking and put his card in. He waited and put his pin in - Gabriel's birthday. He hadn't picked it but the number the bank sent him happened to be those four so he hadn't changed it. Then he requested enough money to cover dinner, lunch tomorrow and change. He took the money and stuffed it in his wallet, shoving it in his jacket pocket, grabbing the slip at the last minute, almost forgetting.

He ran across the road and back into the takeaway to stand around for his order. In a moment of boredom he looked at the slip in his hand and read it then looked away.

His eyes widened and he looked back to it.

There was five thousand dollars missing.

It had to be a bank error, Sam thought and stuff it in his wallet after he'd paid.

He drove home and walked into the kitchen with the delivery. Gabriel hadn't asked him where he'd gone, why he hadn't answered his cell or why he slept on the couch and Sam hadn't offered up reasons either. So they were avoiding the subject all together, acting as if it'd never happened. Gabriel was behind him and Sam turned when there was a tentative hand on the small of his back, looking to the food.

"Smells good," Gabriel said, looking at the food.

Sam stared at him and then to Gabriel's hand as it fell away and he went to the cupboard for plates - Gabriel had never touched him like that.

"Yeah," Sam said and looked at him, then took his wallet out. "C- Can you call the bank tomorrow, I think they screwed up." He took the slip out as Gabriel looked at him. "Look." He handed it to him and then continued to take the food out of the bag. He leaned over to Gabriel and pointed to the total. "Five grand is missing." He leaned back again.

Gabriel held out the slip and Sam took it without thinking.

"It's not a mistake," Gabriel said.

Sam looked to him. "What?" Then he thought about Gabriel's brother. "He asked for five grand?"

"No," Gabriel said. "He asked for two..." He paused. "And then he asked for another three."

"What the hell kind of trouble is he in?" Sam asked, his brow dipped in severe worry.

Gabriel closed his eyes and shook his head. "He's not, he tells me he is but he's not. He's a user, he'll say whatever to get it."

"Drugs?" Sam asked and Gabriel nodded as he opened his eyes, keeping his head low and sorted the plates. "That bad?"

"Five grand is bad, Sam," Gabriel said. He began dishing the food onto the plates. "It's always been the same with Balthazar, it started off with me taking the rap for stuff when we were kids and it moved on to a twenty here and there." Sam turned towards him, aware that this was the first time in the whole time they'd known each other than Gabriel had offered up information about his past. "A ride, a pick-up from the cop shop, a change of clothes..." He inhaled. "An alibi."

"An alibi?" Sam asked, his eyebrows lifting. "For what?" Gabriel didn't answer. "Gabriel, I'm a lawyer, I can look this up but I won't, I just want to know-"

"What's happening to your money?" Gabriel asked, not looking at him, and shook his head as Sam's face tensed further into confusion and hurt. "You'll get it back, my card-" He gestured to the side. "I put my wallet in the laundry, waiting for a replacement."

Sam put his hands out to Gabriel's shoulders and forcefully turned him to look at him while Gabriel turned his head away. "Look at me," he said so Gabriel looked to the side. This caused the pain in Sam to swell and he shook him, his eyes welling up. "Look at me, Gabriel!" 

He heard the emotion in Sam's voice and his eyes snapped to Sam but, being unable to admit it he reacted with anger. "I'm looking!" he shouted.

"Are you?" Sam asked. "Because you're clearly not looking hard enough! Stand there and tell me I care about the money!" Gabriel swallowed and Sam nodded once. "Go on, tell me!"

"Sam-"

"Tell me!" Sam shouted, Gabriel seeing the tears in his eyes swell and begin to fall quickly. "You know, not once have I questioned that you love me. You've never said it and you don't have to because I  _know._ " Sam put his right hand to his chest. "In here and," he lifted it and pointed to his temple, "in here. I've never questioned it. But maybe I should've been asking you that question instead. I should have been making sure that you know that I love you."

"I do know-" Gabriel started, confused.

"No, you don't," Sam said, shaking his head. "You clearly don't, not if you think I care about money! At all, never mind over  _you_!" He shook his head. "If you think that then you don't know me at all." Gabriel watched Sam's hands fall as he took three steps away from Gabriel, his head kept shaking. "You don't..."

Gabriel took a step forward. "Sam-" he said.

Sam turned and made for the doorway.

"Sam," Gabriel said and attempted to follow him, expecting him to turn back around and argue more, to fight for them. "Sam!" he shouted and got to the living room doorway, looking down the hall as the door closed. "Sam, come on!" he shouted but heard nothing. 

He let his head hang, exhaled and turned all the way around, right into punching living room wall with his right hand and then brought his hand back, letting it fall to his side and feeling it pulse but he didn't care.

He lifted his hand and looked to it realizing that he really didn't care about anything else, except the man who he had just chased away. And chased away on purpose, the very way he knew wouldn't fail.

>><<

Cas got back from work just after half seven, he looked tense and was breathing heavily. He walked into his apartment, left the door open as he put his briefcase down and took his jacket off. He took his suit jacket off, loosened his tie and pulled it over his head, putting them both on the coat peg and left the flat again, locking the door behind him.

He went to the door of Dean's apartment and exhaled before knocking. he heard uneven footsteps from further down the hall and then the lock on the door clicked and the door was pulled inwards.

"Hey," Dean said, giving him a quick look up and down, immediately seeing that something was off. "What's wrong?"

"Can I come in?" Cas asked, as if the action was laboring.

"Yeah, yeah," Dean said and stumbled back on his cast as he opened the door wide.

"Thanks," Cas said and stepped in. "Is it just you?" he asked as Dean closed the door, not locking it while his attention was entirely on Cas, suddenly feeling tense.

"Yeah," Dean said and Cas followed him into the living room. "Do you want a drink," Dean turned, "or something?"

"Something," Cas said and stepped towards Dean, pulling him in for a kiss.

Dean hummed and kissed him back, both of them lifted their hands right away to cup the other's head, pulling them in too, hands overlapping and trying to move out of the way for the other's. Dean turned Cas and put him up against the wall where a desk had been just as Cas' right hand pulled his hip in towards him.

"Been thinkin' 'bout you all day," Dean mumbled against his lips.

"Me too," Cas breathed back.

"I wanna-" Dean pulled from the kiss, breathless. "Can I fuck you?"

"Yes," Cas said and pulled him back in for a hard kiss. His right hand traveled under Dean's t-shirt and up his back.

Dean hummed and started unbuttoning Cas' trousers at the front. "I wanted you so much earlier," he muttered as he dipped his right hand in Cas' waistband.

"I know," Cas said as he watched him and then moaned. "If I hadn't had to work I would have let you."

"Yeah?" Dean asked. "I thought I'd overstepped the mark."

"No," Cas said. "I just had to get back and it was so hard to say no to you." He took the front of Dean's jeans in his hand and started to unbutton them.

"Didn't want to?" Dean asked, feeling Cas try to shake his head and felt a flash of arousal over him. The fact that Cas had been as close to the edge as he had doing something to him that he'd consider primal if he could think straight.

And then the front door opened.

"Dean?" Sam's voice came through the apartment as the door closed again.

"Son of a-" Dean said, taking his hand out of Cas' underwear, Cas hastily buttoned up as Sam stepped in and looked between them. "Sam, knocking-"

He stopped when he saw Sam's face; it was red and puffy, like Linda's had been. Dean turned away from Cas and looked over his face, forgetting about his boner as Cas tried to calm his breathing.

"I'm sorry, I'll go," Sam said and turned.

"Hey, whoa," Dean said and grabbed Sam's arm, turning him back to him. "What's wrong, what happened?"

"I'll go," Cas said and walked around them and out of the living room then the apartment to go into his, trying to decide between a cold shower and taking care of himself. However, the pain on Sam's face had deflated all desire he had so he decided to eat instead.

"Talk to me," Dean said once the front door had closed.

"It's- It's Gabriel," Sam said and sniffed, trying to keep the emotion in. "He uh-"

"What, what did he do?" Dean asked. "I'll rip his damn lungs out!"

Sam shook his head and the emotion broke through. "He doesn't- I love him," he said and Dean nodded a little, aware of that by now. "But he doesn't believe me."

Dean hesitated. "How can he not-?" He stopped. "Okay, wait, back it right up, go from the beginning."


	11. Fair Exchange

Sam was sitting on one of Dean's couches with an empty glass in his right hand which Dean had filled with the scotch that Cas had brought while Dean sat on the other couch looking at Sam as he'd listened to his story.

"He- He- He's always shut me out," Sam continued, a little calmer than when he'd first come in and not as close to tears. "But he let me in where it mattered, I guess."

"So, you didn't know he had a brother?"

"Not until he was closing my front door on his way out," Sam said with a shake of his head. He's never talked about his family and I thought maybe it was because they're religious and he's gay?" Sam's face contorted into confusion and his inflection suggested he was asking a question but Dean didn't take it as one, at least not meant for him, especially since Sam was staring at the table in front of them. "But I never thought he'd be giving him money for drugs. He's just enabling him."

"How heavy we talking?" Dean asked.

"Like five grand in two days heavy," Sam said and shook his head. "I don't even know how many times this has happened. He just- He thinks I give a crap about the money. How can he believe I love him if he thinks that?" He then lifted his head. "Wait, is my brother asking about this or is it Lieutenant Winchester?"

Dean scoffed. "Come on, Sam, do you have to ask that?" Sam just shrugged. "Your brother!" He shook his head. "Come on!"

Sam nodded and then looked down before he closed his eyes and exhaled. "Sorry," he said and lifted his free hand to his forehead. "I'm sorry."

"Hey, it's alright," Dean said and filled up his glass, making Sam look up so as not to spill it. "Here, have another."

"Thanks," Sam said and took a drink of it. "I mean, of all of the things to say to me he says the one thing - bar accusing me of assaulting him - that would make me leave."

"This withholding thing, has he always done that or is it just his family?"

"No," Sam shook his head, "he's always been like that." He looked at Dean. "He doesn’t share anything. He’s not- He doesn’t touch me. He's never told me he loved me."

Dean paused. "Ever?" he asked.

"No," Sam said with another shake of his head. "But that's okay, I don't need him to. I know. I know a lot of things he doesn't say. But I decided that I was fine with it, I could deal with it all as long as I knew he loved me and he knew I loved him. Now I'm not so sure." He downed his glass and looked down as the emotion welled up behind his eyes again.

"Hey," Dean put his right hand on Sam's shoulder and shook it gently, "it'll be alright, we'll get through it. Alright?" Sam nodded in a stiff motion that indicated he wasn't convinced. "Whatever happens, me and you, we'll work it out, okay?" 

Sam sniffed and nodded as he looked to his brother. "Yeah," he said and then shook it again as his emotions took out. "No, it's all gone to hell, Dean."

"We'll figure it-" Sam shook his head as Dean lowered his hand. "We will," Dean insisted. 

"I made my peace with it," Sam said and lifted his free hand to wipe his eyes, Dean seeing the little boy he practically brought up all over again. "The holding back, keeping me at arm's length. I was convinced I could do it. I mean, it took a meltdown and half a liter of scotch but I got there."

Dean couldn't help but chuckle. "That's my boy," he said and smiled when Sam did.

Sam looked down. "I came here," he said and looked to Dean. "I came to you."

"When?" Dean asked, trying to think if he heard a knock at the front door or the intercom.

"I hoped you might be back at work-"

"Sam," Dean warned with a sigh.

Sam continued regardless. "I went to the station, Donna had to take me home I was too drunk, she tried to convince me to-" He stopped and looked to the side.

"She tried to convince you to what?" Dean asked.

"She tried to convince me to talk to him, I said no, I said-" Sam rushed out and then stopped. "I said that as long as he knew I loved him that I would stay. He heard me." Sam shuffled forward a little in his seat. "That- That  _bastard_  heard me," he said with a smile and then he shook his head with his eyes closed. "Jackass," he muttered.

"I'm confused," Dean said.

"He's deliberately trying to push me away," Sam said and looked at Dean.

"And?" Dean said, not sure how to react.

"Not going to happen," Sam said with a smile.

"So..." Dean hesitated. "You're good?"

"Yeah," Sam said and held out his glass. "Yeah, I'm good."

Dean exhaled as he topped them both up. "Good." He held his out and Sam knocked his against it before they both threw them back.

They exhaled with force after it and Sam grunted a little before he chuckled.

"Wow," he said.

"Yeah," Dean agreed.

"That's good stuff, where'd you get it?" he asked.

"Cas left it," Dean said and put his glass on the table before he leaned back on the couch.

"Sorry," Sam said.

"Don't be," Dean said with a shake of his head.

"Pretty sure you were about to get laid before I barged in," Sam added, pouring some more of the scotch in his glass and sitting back on the couch too.

"Doesn't come before you," Dean said and stared ahead.

Sam looked at him and then nodded. "Maybe if you go knock-"

"Sam, the moment's past, there'll be another," Dean said and ran his right hand through his hair, leaving his elbow on the armrest. 

Sam reluctantly forced the words out of his mouth, "And your job?"

Dean let his hand fall to the armrest all together. "Sam-"

"You have to go back sometime," Sam argued.

"I am," Dean said and looked to Sam looking at him. "I never left."

"Wh-?" Sam began.

"I shot Kevin, Sam," Dean said. "I  _shot_  my sergeant, Kevin, right in the head, Sam. I stood there, looking at him in that hospital bed. He looked like he was sleeping but the truth is he might never wake up, so sorry if I wanted to give it up for a few days."

"What?" Sam asked. "Being a cop?"

"The gun," Dean corrected and Sam inhaled, squeezing his eyes closed as if he should have guessed, as if he were a complete ignoramus for not figuring it out. 

"The gun," Sam said, his face then tensing into annoyance at his own idiocy. "I am such an ass, Dean, I'm so sorry." He opened his eyes to look at his brother. "I'm sorry."

"They tested me for GSR, they did all of the tricks on it and then handed me it back, like it was nothing. I'm chained to my desk but that thing is still on my hip like a reminder. I can feel the weight there." He stood up and walked into the center of the room. "It used to be reassuring, now it's like... A drain, like carrying his entire lifeless body every minute of every day. With every shift of my hip I can hear his heartbeat." He lifted his hand to cover his mouth and Sam put his glass down as he stood up and stepped towards him. Dean tapped his chest with his middle finger, three times. He then moved his hand and tapped on his hip three times. "The idea of picking it up again-" He shook his head.

"You pick it- Hey!" Sam put his hands on Dean's shoulders and Dean's eyes whipped to his. "You pick it up and you holster it, you put that badge back on your belt and you use both to find this accomplice son of a bitch. You find him and you put him down."

"My job isn't the executioner," Dean said. "I'm an enforcer of the law, I don't decide what justice is.”

“But you _have_ to take him out, for Kevin!” Sam argued.

“I can’t, Sam! That’s not my job. I’ll do _my job_ , I’ll find him, I’ll bring him in and he can face a jury of his peers."

Sam smiled, his hands falling from Dean's shoulders. "Just checking."

Dean exhaled with a smile and pushed his brother back gently before walking to the kitchen.

>><< 

Sam opened the front door and put his coat on the peg before he closed it. He could already hear sounds in the living room so he didn't even stop to check the bedroom or gym, he just headed down the hallway towards the noise. Gabriel looked up from his seat on the couch where he was watching a TV program that showed the solutions to illusions.

"Sam-" Gabriel said as he stood up and let the comforter he had wrapped around him to reveal that he had only been wearing pajama pants, looking up as Sam stopped in front of him. "I didn't expect you to-"

Sam kissed him, putting his right hand under the left side of Gabriel’s jaw as he walked him back to the far wall of windows that started a fifth of the way up the wall from the floor and didn't stop until a few inches from the ceiling. Gabriel's back hit the window and Sam moved to kiss his neck.

"I don't understand," Gabriel said, hearing the jangle of Sam's belt.

"I am not letting you push me away," Sam said in his ear and Gabriel's eyes closed. "Okay?"

Gabriel nodded as Sam pulled at the cord holding Gabriel's pajama pants up. 

"Yeah?" Sam asked as they fell to the floor and Sam kissed his neck.

"Yeah, okay," Gabriel said lifted one leg to unhook his pants from his ankle and he never even got a chance to let it drop to the floor again before Sam lifted it to his hip.

Gabriel used Sam's hold, and his hand on Sam's shoulder, to pull his other leg up. He could feel Sam trying to pull his underwear down enough as Gabriel wrapped his legs around Sam's waist and waited, kissing Sam's lips. 

They both groaned when Sam pushed in and, as usual, Gabriel's hands went to Sam's chest to stop him getting too close. And Sam, out of habit or fear of rejection, let it happen as he pulled almost all of the way out then pushed in again.

"You're tight," Sam said, a little strained. "You haven't-?"

"Haven't been in the mood," Gabriel said, his right running up Sam's neck and into the base of his hair, but keeping his left on Sam's chest. "How can I be when you're upset?"

Sam's left hand went to Gabriel's and stroked up and down his arm. He noticed Gabriel was quieter than usual as he slowly pushed in and out of him, against the frosted window. Scared even.

"Don't," Sam said. "Don't hold it- Let me- No one can hear us."

He grunted in frustration and pushed on the inside of Gabriel's elbow, making it bend.

"No more," Sam said as he pulled Gabriel close and cupped his face, looking at him while he touched his forehead to Gabriel's, feeling his warm breath on his face. 

"Took you long enough," Gabriel muttered and kissed Sam hard, letting his left hand join his right in Sam’s hair but used them both to try and pull Sam in closer, as close as he could. 

They pulled apart to moan and then smiled at each other.

>><< 

Cas had gotten up in the night to urinate and then threw himself back into his bed. He heard whistling on the other side of the wall and looked at the clock; it was nearly midnight. He wished he could just go through there and pick up from where they'd left off but he didn't want to step in between Dean and his brother when Sam clearly needed him. He also didn't want Dean to think that that's all he wanted from him, he might throw him out again.

Cas smiled, no he wouldn't, because they'd cleared that up; they were on the same page now. But pages were easily turned, forward and back.

That didn't stop Cas' right hand going to his crotch and rubbing through his boxers, just trying to satisfy the itch he had building up. But then the damage was done and he felt it buzz through him like a shot. All he wanted was the man whistling 'TNT' on the other side of the wall. And Cas  _did_ feel like he was going to explode.

Cas' mind was filling up with just what he'd do if he did go next door. Somehow the front door would be open, he'd walk in, then in to Dean's bedroom where he'd be lying in bed, half-asleep. He'd stop whistling and smile as Cas walked to the side of the bed and- 

Cas let out a moan realizing that his hand had dipped inside his boxers and was stroking, slow and firm.

He thought how he'd climb over Dean, how he'd straddle him, ride him; or fuck into him, turn him around so he'd moan Cas' name into his pillow. Maybe he'd move him from bed and fuck him against the wall or let Dean do it to Cas. Maybe he'd get on his knees. Maybe Dean would.

"Dean," he moaned, idly aware that he wasn't succeeding much in controlling his volume in his dead silent flat in the middle of the night where the only other sound was the whistling next door.

That whistling stopped as Dean sat up in his bed, not sure if he heard what he thought he did. His immediate thought was that Cas was in there with someone but he was sure he’d heard his name. He put his ear to the wall and waited, when he heard nothing he thought perhaps he’d imagined it.

Cas also waited but _he_ heard nothing else he moaned again, calling Dean's name louder.

Dean’s eyes darted around him, thinking what the hell was going on. He only came to one viable conclusion – Cas was… treating himself in his bed, while thinking of Dean, and he seemed to want Dean to know about it. He thought he should get up, get his ass next door. But something in him not only kept him there, it made him decide to join in. He unbuttoned his jeans and pulled them down quickly.

Cas wasn’t sure now, he’d heard nothing except movement, maybe he’d gone too far. His hand slowed and he almost abandoned the idea all together.

Dean noticed the absence of noise too and stopped.

“Cas, are you-?” He stopped, unable to ask.

Cas heard his voice through the wall, muffled but rough anyway and he decided to just take a chance. “Yes,” he said.

And then there was more movement through the wall while Dean rushed to pull himself out of his boxers and push them down at the sides a little, he began to stroke and then figured, maybe, Cas was waiting for some indication as to what Dean was doing. So, he gave an exaggerated moan and then his face morphed as he thought perhaps it was too much. And then he waited, his hand lazily stroking himself.

Cas’ breath caught in his throat, he remembered how quiet Dean had been when they’d been together but the image of Dean under him, writhing and coming saying his name took over and he began to think about what he was doing on the other side of the wall and then Cas was lost to any other thoughts. He groaned as a picture appeared in his head of what that might look like and a pulse of lust ran through him. He pushed his boxers down to give himself some room while Dean was closing his eyes and letting his head fall to the wall while he became harder.

Cas closed his own eyes on his pillow and bit his lip before he moaned again.

Dean couldn’t help it, he let out a moan in a breath and followed it with, “Cas,” but he didn’t know if it was because of who he was thinking of or if it was a weak attempt to begin to ask the man through the wall to forget about the moan.

“Dean,” Cas moaned louder and let his hips move on the bed, his imagination running away with him, half-way between reality and what could be really happening. He thought about Dean riding him or, as he lifted his knees from the bed and placed his feet flat on the mattress, Dean fucking him.

Dean was sliding down the bed a little so that his upper back was left on the wall and his legs moved, pulling his jeans down a little. He was focusing on Cas’ voice, saying his name and moaning, trying to follow his pacing and keep himself in time. His free hand grabbed the sheets under him and he let himself grunt in pleasure again.

Cas heard it and let himself respond, trying to say Dean’s name a few times but not getting that far, Dean took them as cues and sped up, sliding to lying down completely. Cas’ hips wouldn’t stop moving on their own and in the end he turned around, leaning on his left elbow, grabbing his pillow as he fucked into his hand.

When Cas called out Dean’s name again Dean heard the desperation in it as a warning and lifted his left leg to push his foot into the mattress and lifted his hips a little as he raced to catch up. He nodded and then closed his eyes as he lifted his left hand to touch the wall.

“Go,” he said and his eyes tightened when he heard Cas shout something unintelligible and he let his hand fall to the pillow above his head and grunted as he caught up, pursing his lips together as he came.

Cas let his head hang, still looking down at his bed, as Dean let his right hand fall to the bed and straightened out his leg, looking down at his covered t-shirt. The images they’d both been thinking of melted away, but it was okay because what they were left with made them both smile, even though they didn’t say anything else to each other that night.


End file.
